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|ION-Ru,._w>i8LE 


Tin  L9-  Series  1  H 


Seven  Spanish  Cities, 


AND    THE    WAY    TO    THEM. 


BY 


/   S  ft 


EDWARD    E.    HALE, 


AUTHOR    OF   "THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY,"    "TEN  TIMES  ONE  IS  TEN," 

"IN    HIS   NAME,"    "THE    INGHAM    PAPERS,"    "  HIS    LEVEL    BEST," 

"HOW   TO   DO    IT,"    "WHAT   CAREER,"   ETC 


BOSTON: 

ROBERTS      BROTHERS. 

1886. 

94  14  \"5  38 


Copyright,  i88j, 
By  Edward  E.  Hale. 


flTambrt&ge : 

PRINTED   BY   JOHN   WILSON   AND  SON, 
UNIVERSITY    PRESS. 


STATE  NORMAL  SGHUUL, 

Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

PREFACE. 


Why  should  this  man  write  a  book  about 
Spain,  when  he  was  there  so  short  a  time? 

That  is  a  very  fair  question.  The  answer  is 
chiefly  personal.  In  my  very  earliest  days,  an 
uncle,  aunt,  and  cousin  of  mine,  all  very  dear  to 
me  in  my  babyhood,  went  to  Spain  and  remained 
there  many  years.  Their  letters  from  Spain  and 
their  Spanish  curiosities  were  among  the  home 
excitements  of  my  childhood;  and  the  great 
red-letter  day  was  the  day  of  their  return.  Well 
do  I  recollect  the  box  of  bon-bons  they  brought 
me.  There  were  some  varieties  in  it,  which  I 
have  never  seen  again  to  this  day. 

This  experience  made  Spain  stand  out  from 
the  map  of  Europe  to  my  boyish  eyes,  and  I 
felt  a  certain  surprise  that  the  geographies  and 
the  newspapers  had  so  little  to  tell  of  it. 

In  after  days,  there  came  to  me  a  time  when  I 
hoped,  for  a  little  while,  to  be  Mr.  Prescott's 


iv  PREFACE. 

reader  in  his  great  historical  work.  That  hope 
was  soon  disappointed  ;  but  it  led  me  to  the  study 
of  the  Spanish  language,  and  it  brought  me  his 
kind. friendship  while  he  lived. 

Later  yet,  the  duty  next  my  hand  proved  to 
be  that  of  the  "  South  American  Editor"  of  the 
Boston  "  Advertiser,"  and  with  it  came  the  neces- 
sity of  tracing  the  histories  of  Spanish  fortune  in 

America. 

Beside  this,  I  may  say  that  the  great  pleasure 
of  my  life  has  been  the  study  of  American  his- 
tory, which  has,  of  course,  constantly  thrown  me 
back  upon  the  long  narratives  of  Spanish  dis- 
covery. All  these  personal  experiences  have 
specially  interested  me  in  Spain. 

Still,  Spain  is  so  much  "  out  of  the  way,"  that 
in  two  visits  to  Europe  I  had  never  thought  it 
possible  even  to  hurry  over  it. 

But,  last  summer,  good  luck  aided  me  to  make 
the  rapid  tour  which  is  described  in  these  pages, 
under  circumstances  very  favorable.  And  in 
the  hope  that  other  people,  who  may  be  as  curi- 
ous as  I  was,  may  be  disposed  to  try  the  same 
adventure,  I  print  this  little  book  of  travel. 

Still,  it  would  never  have  been  written,  I  fear, 
but  for  the  suggestion  of  my  friend  Mr.  Guild 
himself  so  entertaining  a  narrator  of  travel  and 


PRE  FA  CE.  v 

adventure.  He  said  to  me,  what  was  very  true, 
after  my  return,  that  if  I  promised  to  write  for 
his  "Bulletin"  a  sketch  of  Spain  once  a  week,  I 
should  do  it;  but  that  if  I  promised  myself  to 
write  a  book,  I  should  always  mean  to  and  never 
do  it.  So  I  wrote  the  sketches  for  his  paper, 
which,  with  some  additions,  are  here  before  the 
reader.  I  hope  they  may  start  some  other  par- 
ties on  an  expedition  which  shall  prove  as 
charming  as  ours. 


EDWARD   E.   HALE 


St.  Germain  en  Laye,  France, 
June  7,  1883. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
Preface iii 

Introductory      5 

Chapter 

I.     Bordeaux,  Bayonne,  and  Roncesvalles  14 

II.     Bayonne  to  Madrid 28 

III.  Cordova 40 

IV.  Seville 56 

V.    Palos  and  Columbus 71 

VI.  Xeres,  Cadiz,  and  Malaga 80 

VII.  Granada.    The  Alhambra      ....    93 

VIII.  Worship  in  Spain 118 

IX.  Across  the  Sierra 134 

X.  Madrid 155 

XI.  Spanish  Politics 166 

XII.  King  and  Administration 182 

XIII.  Perro  Paco  and  the  Bulls  ....  198 

XIV.  Toledo 206 

XV.  Museums  in  Madrid 218 

XVI.  Out-Doors  Life 228^ 

XVII.  Zaragjoza 247 

XVIII.  Northward 263 

XIX.  Jaca 279 


Index 


325 


\ 


SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 


INTRODUCTORY. 

I  HAVE  wanted  to  go  to  Spain  ever  since  I 
can  remember. 

In  this  last  spring  and  summer  I  was  able  to 
carry  out  this  wish.  My  visit  was  very  short, 
but  the  circumstances  were  singularly  favorable. 
From  a  mass  of  mixed  memoranda,  and  other 
material,  I  am  now  tempted  to  select  and  print 
these  notes,  in  the  hope  that  they  may  be  of 
some  use  to  persons  intending  to  travel,  and 
possibly  of  some  amusement  to  friends  of  mine 
who  stay  at  home. 

The  party  of  which  I  was  one  was  a  party  of 
four,  —  my  sister,  my  daughter,  and  a  younger 
friend,  beside  myself.  The  ladies  are  all  enthu- 
siastic in  drawing  and  painting,  and  the  treas- 
ures of  Spanish  fine  art  were  for  them  a  great 
attraction.  For  me  —  I  have  been  for  forty  years 
hoping  to  write  "  The   History  of  the    Pacific 


6  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

Ocean  and  its  Shores."  At  one  and  another 
favorable  opportunity  I  have  made  collections 
of  material  for  that  history.  Last  winter  I 
promised  to  furnish  for  the  new  "  History  of  the 
United  States  "  the  chapter  on  the  Discovery  of 
California;  in  1880  I  had  written  the  chapter  on 
that  subject  for  Gay's  "  Pictorial  History."  Be- 
fore I  sent  this  chapter  to  the  press  I  was  desirous 
to  make  some  examinations  in  detail  of  the  doc- 
uments in  Spanish  archives  relating  to  Cortez's 
discovery  of  California  and  to  the  subsequent 
explorations  of  different  adventurers.  *  I  had 
thus  an  archaeological  object;  the  ladies  had  an 
artistic  object ;  and  all  of  us  were  glad  to  be  "off 
soundings,"  and  to  have  what  the  English  of 
Dryden's  day  would  have  called  "  a  good  time." 
It  is  said  that  phrase  is  lost  to  the  English  of 
to-day.  So  much  the  worse  for  them.  New 
Englanders  will  understand  it. 

It  may  as  well  be  said  in  the  outset  that  we 
found  all  we  sought  in  Spain,  and  very  much 
more. 

Dear  Michael  Faraday  said  once,  when  he 
was  asked  to  examine  something  with  a  micro- 
scope, "  What  am  I  expected  to  see?"  It  seems 
but  fair  to  the  reader  of  these  notes  —  doubt- 
ful whether  he  will  go  on  or  whether  he  will 
not  explore  another  page  —  it  seems  but  fair 
to  make  such  an  explanation  as  I  have    now 


INTRODUCTORY.  7 

made  as  to  what  he  is  expected  to  find  if  he 
perseveres. 

All  sorts  of  advice  were  lavished  on  me  when 
the  little  public  of  my  friends  fairly  found  out 
that  I  was  going.  There  was  a  party  who  were 
eager  that  I  should  go  in  winter.  Another, 
headed  by  those  who  had  read  "  A  Summer  in 
Spain,"  were  equally  eager  that  I  should  go  in 
summer.  Another  set  advised  autumn  ;  and  yet 
a  fourth,  spring.  Privately,  in  my  own  mind,  I 
determined  that  I  would  go  when  I  could.  This 
plan  brought  upon  me,  however,  a  volley  of  re- 
monstrances from  those  who  were  sure  that 
May  and  June  were  deadly  months  in  Spain. 
I  had  information  laid  before  me  tending  to  the 
belief  that  annually,  in  those  months,  the  whole 
population  of  Spain  died  of  typhoid  fever,  and 
was  buried  by  the  survivors.  To  which  infor- 
mation I  replied  steadily,  that  when  I  came  to 
London  I  would  take  advice.  "  Mr.  Lowell  would 
certainly  know."  It  is  always  well  to  shield 
one's  self  under  the  shelter  of  a  great  name. 
The  constituents  were  pacified ;  they  soon  for- 
got their  own  opinions,  and  I  was  left  to  form 
my  own.  When  I  came  to  London  I  found  that 
my  advisers  thought  I  had  better  do  much  as  I 
chose,  —  as  sound  advisers  are  apt  to  think 
when  they  talk  to  a  man  of  sense.  All  ended, 
therefore,  in  my  leaving  Paris  for  Spain  on  the 


8  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

ioth  of  May.  And  the  reader  who  doubts  at 
this  point  may  be  reassured  when  he  learns  that 
I  crossed  the  Pyrenees  northward  on  my  return 
—  and  left  Spain  for  France  —  on  the  27th  of 
June.  These  notes,  therefore,  cover  a  period  of 
only  seven  weeks. 

As  this  is  a  chapter  of  introductions,  I  will 
here  give  a  few  suggestions  as  to  language.  I 
had  had  to  read  Spanish  more  or  less  since 
I  was  sixteen  years  old.  I  thought  for  a  week, 
at  that  time,  that  I  was  to  be  Mr.  Prescott's 
reader  and  amanuensis  in  the  preparation  of  his 
"  History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico."  That 
hope  was  dispelled  at  once ;  but  it  did  happen 
that  for  six  years  I  was  the  "  South  American  edi- 
tor "  of  the  Boston  "  Daily  Advertiser."  Many  a 
time  at  midnight  have  I  manufactured  intelligible 
news  out  of  piles  of  unintelligible  journals  which 
had  just  been  captured  by  our  enterprising 
news-collectors.  Of  that  life  a  little  sketch  was 
once  published  by  me  —  not  very  badly  exagger- 
ated —  in  the  Boston  "  Miscellany."  1  In  reading 
American  history,  of  course,  I  have  been  obliged 
to  read  much  Spanish.  But  I  had  never  talked 
in  that  language  at  all.  By  way  of  preparation, 
then,  I  took  on  board  the  "  Germanic  "  when  I 
sailed    for    Europe,   Prendergast's    "  Mastery " 

1  See  page  79  in  "  The  Man  without  a  Country,  and  other 
Tales,"  by  E.  E.  Hale. 


INTRODUCTORY.  9 

hand-book  of  the  Spanish  language,  and,  with 
the  aid  of  a  friend,  I  began  on  the  voyage. 
Before  I  left  Spain  I  could  make  myself  un- 
derstood, and  could  follow  conversation,  and 
public  address  more  easily  than  conversation- 
I  spoke  wretchedly,  of  course.  But  my  expe- 
rience gives  me  great  confidence  in  the  "  Mas- 
tery system."  I  had,  long  before,  arrived  at 
great  distrust  of  all  the  ordinary  systems. 

Of  the  "  Mastery  system,"  the  principle  is  that 
you  learn  the  hardest  idioms  first. 

It  is  thought  that  if  you  throw  a  boy  into 
twenty  feet  of  water  and  he  paddles  ashore, 
he  will  never  after  be  afraid  to  go  into  the 
water. 

It  is  also  thought  that  a  man  will  not  hesitate 
to  say,  "  Bring  me  a  cup  of  tea,"  if  he  have 
learned  to  say  fluently,  "  However  early  a  riser 
you  may  be,  I  am  sure  you  are  not  so  much  so 
as  this  poor  man,  for  whatever  the  season  may 
be,  and  whatever  weather  it  is,  he  always  rises 
before  the  sun." 

Mr.  Prcndergast  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  but 
a  little  more  than  a  hundred  words  are  needed  in 
any  language  for  all  those  phrases  which  express 
the  relation  of  things  to  each  other.  He  gives  a 
list  of  these  words  in  English.  The  list  begins 
with  "unless,  whether,  although,  yet;  "  and  it 
ends  with  "  afterwards,  always,  well,  ago,  than." 


10  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

He  says  —  and  I  think  truly — that  in  a  new  lan- 
guage one's  timidity  comes  from  his  fear  about 
using  such  words  as  these.  It  is  not  nouns  or 
verbs  which  trouble  us.  Now,  courage,  or  the 
willingness  to  speak,  is  far  more  important  than 
a  large  vocabulary  of  words.  The  "  Mastery  " 
theory  is,  that  if  you  learn  absolutely  well  fifteen 
sentences,  which  contain  all  these  necessary 
words  of  relation,  you  will  plunge  almost  fear- 
lessly into  conversation.  Of  this  theory  I  am  a 
living  confirmation.  For  here  am  I,  of  nature 
very  timid  and  shamefaced,  who,  under  Mr. 
Prendergast's  lead,  boldly  attacked,  in  three 
weeks'  time,  porters,  fellow-travellers,  literati, 
and  table  companions.  Of  course  I  made 
mistakes,  as  when  the  apothecary  thought  I 
wanted  "  little  knives,"  *when  I  was  seeking 
"  phial  corks."  This  was  because  I  did  not  roll 
the  R  enough  in  corchillo,  and  he  thought  I 
said  cuchillo.  But  the  confidence  is  what  you 
need. 

I  doubt  whether  most  people  recollect  how 
few  words  are  necessary  for  the  intelligent  in- 
terchange of  opinion.  The  Book  of  Joshua  con- 
tains but  six  hundred  and  twelve  different  words, 
exclusive  of  proper  names.  Learn  every  day 
thirty  words  of  any  language,  and  keep  up 
your  study  for  twenty-one  days,  and  you  have 
learned    words    enough   to    express    ideas    and 


INTRODUCTORY.  II 

narratives  as  varied  as  are  those  in  the  Book  of 
Joshua.  You  have  learned  enough  for  most 
practical  purposes.  Now,  a  traveller  in  a  new 
country  who  keeps  his  eyes  open,  reads  the 
signs  in  the  streets,  and  tries  to  read  the  daily 
newspapers,  learns  much  more  than  thirty  words 
a  day. 

For  persons  who  want  to  learn  Spanish  I  will 
say  one  word  more.  Other  persons  may  skip 
this  paragraph.  To  an  Englishman  or  an  Amer- 
ican, Spanish  is  what  school-boys  call  "  hog 
Latin  ;"  that  is,  it  is  made  up  of  a  Latin  vocabu- 
lary in  the  forms  of  a  Teutonic  or  northern 
grammar,  and  the  idiom  of  this  northern  gram- 
mar is  very  like  the  idiom  of  English.  I  sup- 
pose the  history  of  the  thing  to  be  this.  The 
Goths  from  the  North  of  Europe  conquered 
Spain.  They  were  far  too  proud  to  learn  Latin 
grammar.  But  the  people  they  conquered  vir- 
tually spoke  Latin.  The  Goths  had  to  speak  in 
their  words,  but  with  the  pride  of  conquerors 
they  kept  to  their  own  idiom.  The  result  is  the 
Spanish  language.  Thus,  a  Spaniard  says,  Yo 
he  hablado,  where  an  Englishman  says,  "  I  have 
spoken ;  "  but  where  the  Roman,  if  he  used  the 
same  root  as  the  Spaniard,  would  have  said 
Fabulavi.  Students  of  language  will  see  that 
the  same  original  roots  are  used  both  in  the 
Roman  and    Spanish  form.      But  the  order  is 


12  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

exactly  reversed.  Fabitl-av-i  reveals,  in  the 
transfer,  "I  —  'av  —  fabled." 

For  this  reason  it  is  easier  for  an  Englishman 
or  an  American  to  learn  Spanish  than  it  is  for  a 
Frenchman,  because  our  language  retains  much 
more  Teutonic  or  German  idiom  than  does  the 
French. 

One  more  direction  :  if  by  any  misfortune 
you  know  any  Italian  when  you  go  to  Spain,  for- 
get it.  It  is  only  a  snare  and  a  delusion.  The 
Italian  idiom  is  based  closely  on  the  Latin.  The 
Spanish,  as  has  been  said,  is  a  northern  idiom. 
Then,  for  a  thousand  reasons,  different  roots 
have  been  chosen  in  the  two  peninsulas,  since 
their  governments  were  parted,  for  the  expres- 
sion of  the  same  idea.  Speaking  in  general,  I 
should  say  that  you  could  guess  quite  as  many 
Spanish  words  from  your  knowledge  of  English 
as  from  your  knowledge  of  Italian.  It  may  be 
added  that  the  Spaniards  dislike  the  Italians, 
and  that  the  dislike  is  mutual.  I  fancy  that  the 
use  of  an  Italian  word  is  as  disagreeable  to  a 
Spaniard  as  is  the  use  of  a  German  word  to  a 
Hungarian. 

I  certainly  would  not  advise  any  person  to  go 
to  Spain  without  an  interpreter,  unless  he  were 
willing  to  take  some  pains  to  learn  something  of 
the  language.  But  the  Spaniards  are  very  cour- 
teous and  patient,  willing   to  meet  you   much 


INTRODUCTORY.  1 3 

more  than  half-way;  and  for  these  and  other 
reasons,  Spanish  is  by  far  the  easiest  language 
to  which  a  person  speaking  English  can  address 
himself. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BORDEAUX,  BAYONNE,  AND  RONCESVALLES. 

On  the  tenth  day  of  April  I  left  Paris  with 
my  daughter  to  join  the  other  members  of  my 
party  at  Bordeaux.  We  broke  the  route  by 
spending  the  night  at  Orleans.  We  made  the 
whole  journey  by  rail.  Although  flying  over 
the  country  at  fifty  kilometres  an  hour,  I  found 
a  special  interest  in  it,  because  Franklin  and 
Adams,  and  our  other  revolutionary  envoys,  so 
often  had  to  jumble  across  this  same  country  in 
the  rude  vehicles  of  their  time.  Bordeaux  was 
a  great  port  for  our  privateers  and  merchant- 
men, and  our  commissioners  generally  got  their 
first  notion  of  Europe  in  the  four  or  five  days 
which  they  spent  in  this  journey  of  five  hundred 
miles.  John  Adams  first  went  to  the  theatre  at 
Bordeaux,  for  instance,  when  he  was  forty-three 
years  old,  and  he  says  in  a  note  to  his  Diary 
that  our  American  theatres  did  not  exist  then 
even  in  contemplation.  Not  to  cumber  notes 
on  Spain  with  full  accounts  of  travelling  in 
France,  I  will  say  that  the  beauty  of  the  French 


BORDEAUX.  15 

landscape  at  the  end  of  April  is  curiously  en- 
hanced by  the  glory  of  their  crimson  clover. 
This  is  an  annual  clover  (Trifoliwn  incarnatum) , 
which  grows  very  thickly  and  rankly,  with  cylin- 
drical heads  of  brilliant  crimson  flowers.  I  had 
been  looking  for  it  for  forty  years,  and  have 
often  asked  friends,  who  had  forgotten  the  re- 
quest, to  bring  me  seeds  of  it.  But  I  had  never 
seen  it  till  now. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe  the  glory  of  the  long 
fields  of  it  blazing  with  crimson  color.  The 
effect  of  it  in  bloom  is  as  fine  as  a  rich  crimson 
coleus  bed  would  be,  if  you  can  imagine  such  a 
bed  of  ten  or  fifteen  acres.  One  feels  all  along 
the  meaning  of  the  epigram  that  Napoleon 
changed  the  landscape  of  France.  I  believe,  in 
fact,  it  was  not  Napoleon,  but  that  the  landscape 
was  changed  by  the  enactments  of  the  Conven- 
tion. All  the  same  it  is  true  that  the  sub- 
division of  the  land  into  small  farms  is  perfectly 
discernible  even  to  a  traveller  by  rail. 

The  change  from  Paris  to  Bordeaux  was  that 
from  spring  in  its  freshness  to  full  summer.  In 
the  first  place,  the  distance  is  more  than  that 
from  Boston  to  Washington.  The  trains  do  this 
at  forty  miles  an  hour. 

Bordeaux  itself  is  a  wide-awake,  active,  and 
successful  city.  At  the  moment  we  were  there 
they  were  finishing,  with  great  energy,  a  tern- 


1 6  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

porary  building  for  a  Mechanics'  Fair,  as  we 
should  call  it,  which  was  to  be  opened  a  few  days 
after.  The  exterior  paintings  of  architecture  on 
canvas  fronts  were  already  up,  for  the  joy  of  the 
Sunday  crowds.  There  is  a  very  pretty  park, 
with  ponds  and  paths  for  the  delectation  of 
children,  within  easy  walking  distance;  and  a 
very  pleasant  afternoon  resort  it  is,  much  more 
pleasant  for  the  purpose  than  anything  we  have 
close  at  hand  at  home.  The  guide-books  call 
the  theatre  the  largest  in  France.  Before  the 
new  opera-house  was  built  in  Paris,  I  think  this 
may  have  been  true.  But  we  were  not  tempted 
into  the  theatre.  The  days  of  our  stay  were  hot, 
and  we  spent  our  evenings  on  the  tops  of  the 
street-cars,  which  run  along  the  river's  edge,  I 
know  not  how  far,  either  way,  and  give  fascinat- 
ing glimpses  of  French  life  to  those  who  will 
take  seats,  —  much  more  to  the  point,  I  think, 
than  anything  we  should  have  found  on  the 
other  side  of  the  foot-lights. 

Some  Roman  ruins,  in  very  good  preserva- 
tion, recall  the  time  when  Bordeaux  was  the 
Burdigala  of  the  Romans,  and  the  artists  of  our 
little  party  (which,  as  the  reader  will  see,  means 
all  of  them,  in  a  modified  sense)  worked  loyally 
on  these  first  bits  of  the  picturesque  of  eighteen 
centuries  ago.  Here  was  our  first  experience 
of  sitting  to  draw  in  an  open  carriage,  to  the  de- 


BORDEAUX.  17 

light  of  street-boys,  —  with  the  sympathy  of  the 
cocker,  —  in  utter  disgust  at  one's  own  failure, 
but  with  the  half  hope  that  months  afterwards 
the  blotch  might  bring  back  some .  pleasant 
memories. 

Of  the  cathedral  —  which  has  some  interest- 
ing memorials  of  the  English  occupation  in  the 
days  of  the  Black  Prince  —  I  had  much  to  say 
in  my  notes  of  the  time.  But  I  am  conscious 
that  any  one  who  follows  these  sketches  will 
find  only  too  much  of  the  effort  to  describe  the 
indescribable  in  the  way  of  cathedrals.  So  I 
spare  him  here  and  now. 

At  Bordeaux  one  comes  into  fairy-land,  or 
into  the  Romance-land,  which  is  next  door. 
Huon  of  Bordeaux  has  left  traces  of  his  exploits 
where  he  has  not  left  traces  of  his  name,  per- 
haps. The  worthy  Archbishop  Turpin  must 
not  be  confounded  with  Dick  Turpin  of  English 
ballads.  The  Archbishop  was  Charlemagne's 
archbishop,  and  in  the  famous  retreat  from 
Spain  did  his  share  of  the  fighting.  He  was 
killed  in  one  story;  but  as  he  himself  wrote 
another,  it  may  be  that  he  was  not  killed  for 
certain.  And  now,  every  inch  we  go,  we  shall 
be  coming  nearer  and  nearer  to  all  the  legend- 
ary tales  of  that  chivalry. 

Huon   of  Bordeaux  had  killed  an   infamous 
(imaginary)   son  of  Charlemagne,  whose  name 
2 


1 8  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

was  Chariot,  who  had  attacked  Huon's  brother 
when  unarmed.  Charlemagne  had  the  matter 
explained  to  him;  but  he  still  mourned  over 
his  boy,  whom  Huon  had  cut  into  two  pieces. 
"  I  receive  thy  homage,"  he  said,  "  and  I  grant 
my  pardon ;  but  it  is  on  these  conditions :  You 
shall  go  at  once  to  the  Sultan  Gaudisso;  you 
shall  present  yourself  before  him  as  he  sits  at 
meat;  you  shall  cut  off  the  head  of  his  most 
illustrious  guest;  you  shall  kiss  three  times  on 
the  mouth  the  fair  princess,  his  daughter;  and 
you  shall  demand  of  the  Sultan,  as  a  token  of 
tribute  from  me,  a  handful  of  the  white  hair  of 
his  beard  and  four  grinders  from  his  jaws."  All 
of  which,  with  the  assistance  of  Oberon,  Huon 
eventually  did ;  and  he  brought  home  the  Prin- 
cess Clarimunda  as  his  bride. 

But,  alas !  of  Huon  we  found  no  monument 
in  Bordeaux.  So  ungrateful  are  cities  to  their 
princes!  It  was  only  the  15th  of  May  when 
our  pleasant  stay  here  ended.  The  weather 
was  warm  as  summer.  The  birds  were  sing- 
ing in  the  trees,  and  these  were  in  full  spring 
beauty.  We  were  eating  strawberries  at  every 
meal,  and  felt  that  we  were  in  the  South 
indeed. 

And  here  I  am  tempted  to  say,  for  the  benefit 
of  American  travellers,  that  the  direct  line  from 
New  York  to  Bordeaux  seems  to  be  an  admi- 


BAYONNE.  19 

rable  line  of  steamers,  well  appointed  and  well 
managed.  The  ladies  of  our  party  who  joined 
us  here  were  more  than  satisfied  with  their  ac- 
commodations on  the  "  Chateau  Lafite."  Trav- 
ellers from  America  to  the  South  of  Europe,  of 
course,  save  a  bad  angle  by  taking  this  line,  and 
in  winter  or  spring  are  in  less  danger  of  cold 
weather.  The  passengers  now  are  almost  all 
French  or  Spanish,  so  that  you  have  a  chance 
to  brush  up  your  languages  on  the  way.  Let 
the  reader  remember  that  the  latitude  of  Bor- 
deaux is  440  50'  N.,  while  that  of  New  York  is 
400  42'  N.  I  had  heard  the  boats  from  New 
York  to  Cadiz  highly  spoken  of;  but  none  of  our 
party  tried  these.  The  latitude  of  Cadiz  is  360 
31'  N.  The  line  from  New  York  to  Cadiz  is, 
therefore,  about  as  much  south  of  a  direct  east 
course  as  that  of  Bordeaux  is  north. 

I  have  long  held  to  the  theory  that  two  hun- 
dred miles  a  day  on  the  outside  is  quite  enough 
for  railway  travel.  If  you  compass  sea  and  land 
to  see  a  country,  you  may  as  well  see  it.  We 
took  the  route  into  Spain,  therefore,  by  staying 
overnight  at  Bayonne,  which  is  perhaps  one 
hundred  and  twenty  miles  from  Bordeaux.  On 
the  way  there  we  saw  pitcheries,  for  the  manu- 
facture of  pitch  and  turpentine,  in  immense  arti- 
ficial forests,  where  the  trees  have  been  planted 
in  straight  lines.     In  the  midst  of  these  planta- 


20  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

tions  are  groves  of  cork-trees,  lest  the  bottles  of 
the  world  should  be  unstopped.  And  finally 
you  come  out  on  those  beautiful  stone-pines, 
with  their  umbrella  tops,  into  a  lovely  under- 
growth of  fern,  heath,  gorse,  and  broom  in  blos- 
som;  poppies  and  scarlet  clover  blazing;  and 
roses  in  the  gardens  in  bloom.  For  fully  sev- 
enty-five miles  the  road  passed  between  hedges 
of  hawthorn  coming  into  bloom,  which  the 
railroad  people  have  planted  for  the  protection 
of  their  line.  Till  Bayonne,  the  strawberries  we 
ate  had  been  brought  from  the  south,  as  in 
Boston  we  eat  strawberries  from  Norfolk.  But 
in  Bayonne,  on  the  15  th,  we  had  green  peas  and 
strawberries  from  their  own  garden.  The  grape- 
vine over  the  trellis  in  my  bedroom  was  in  full 
leaf. 

At  Dax  the  road  "  bifurcates,"  and  the  pas- 
sengers for  fashionable  Pau  turn  east,  while  we 
turn  to  the  southwest.  Dax,  of  course,  reminds 
one  of  no  name  in  the  world  but  Aix;  and  one's 
philology  comes  to  one's  rescue,  for  Aix  is 
what  is  left  of  Aqitis,  and  Dax  is  what  is  left 
of  De  Aquis,  both  these  places  having  been 
watering-places  to  the  Romans,  as  they  are  to 
their  descendants. 

In  Bayonne  we  were  reminded  again,  as  we 
had  been  at  Bordeaux,  by  memories  of  the  Eng- 
lish   occupation   in   those   days   when   English 


BAYONNE.  21 

princes  were  indeed  kings  of  half  France,  and, 
for  that  matter,  called  themselves  kings  of  Spain 
as  well.  It  is  a  strong  fortress,  —  and  one  sees 
the  great  Vauban's  work  still  of  use,  —  with  old 
castles.  The  two  rivers,  Nive  and  Adour,  divide 
the  city  into  Great  Bayonne,  Little  Bayonne, 
and  Saint-Esprit,  a  suburb.  We  mounted  to  a 
church  which  had  memorials  of  the  Black  Prince, 
who,  with  his  fair  cousin,  Joan  of  Kent,  —  who 
was  his  second  wife,  —  lived  and  reigned  in  these 
parts,  after  his  victories  had  established  his  fath- 
er's farm  here.  Richard  II.  was  born  here.  In- 
deed, it  was  virtually  by  the  route  which  the 
Black  Prince  followed  in  his  Spanish  conquests 
that  we  passed  into  Spain. 

In  my  boyhood's  days  there  were  some  boys 
in  Boston  who  were  not  afraid  to  buckle  their 
stilts  to  their  legs,  below  the  knee,  and  with 
nothing  in  their  hands  but  a  short  balancing- 
pole,  to  walk  forth  high  above  the  rest  of  the 
human  race.  I  see  that  in  these  more  degener- 
ate days  boys  are  satisfied  to  make  their  stilts 
into  a  sort  of  crutches,  on  which  the  foot  perches, 
and  by  which  a  round-shouldered  lad  stumbles 
along  more  slowly  than  he  can  walk  without. 
The  railroad,  as  we  travel  south,  bears  us 
through  the  Landes,  famous  to  stilt  lovers,  as 
the  region  where  men  walk  on  stilts  five  feet 
high.       One    of    these    human    storks    revealed 


22  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

himself  to  a  bright  lookout  as  our  train  dashed 
on.  They  march  mile  upon  mile  with  them, 
much  faster  than  a  man  can  walk  without 
them.1 

From  Bayonne  to  the  frontier  is  not  a  long 
ride,  and  you  have  charming  views  of  the  sea. 
The  famous  watering-places  of  Biarritz  and  San 
Sebastian  are  on  this  coast ;  they  come  where 
the  Bay  of  Biscay  cuts  deepest  into  the  land. 
You  pass  the  frontier  at  Irun,  and  all  carriages 
are  changed.  For  when  the  railway  system  was 
adopted  in  Spain,  the  Spaniards,  very  sensibly, 
as  I  should  say,  insisted  on  having  a  gauge  of 
their  own  ;  so  that  they  need  not  be  invaded 
too  easily  by  a  French  army  with  French  en- 
gines and  carriages.  From  the  station  you  act- 
ually see  the  little  watering-place  of  Fontarabia. 
Biarritz  and  Fontarabia !  Think  of  mixing  up 
Napoleon  and  his  Eugenie  with  Charlemagne 
and  his  Roland !  Think  of  hearing  a  conductor 
call  "  Fontarabia  "  !      Think  of  the  shriek  of  the 

1  How  curious  a  thing  is  human  testimony  !  Fifty-eight  years 
ago,  Mrs.  Lucretia  Everett,  well  remembered  as  a  most  charm- 
ing and  accomplished  lady,  passed  over  this  route  in  a  post 
carriage.  Writing  from  Bayonne,  in  a  letter  which  lies  before 
me,  she  savs  :  "  We  expected  to  see  the  people  walking  on  stilts, 
as-  it  was  said  they  did  habitually.  But  we  have  not  been  fortu- 
nate enough  to  have  our  curiosity  gratified  in  this  respect,  and 
on  inquiring  of  the  people,  they  said  it  had  nci'er  been  the  cus- 
tom among  them." 


RONCESVALLES.  23 

whistle  of  your  engine,  when  you  are  listening 
for 

"  that  dread  horn 
On  Fontarabian  echoes  borne  "  ! 


RONCESVALLES. 

I  remember  that  some  Englishman  growls 
because  he  does  not  like  to  be  told  that  a 
branch  line  runs  to  Caradoc.  I  was  brutal 
enough  to  take  down  Bradshaw,  when  I  saw 
this  plaint,  and  I  found  that,  in  fact,  there  is  no 
station  near  Caradoc.  I  pursued  my  researches 
so  far,  indeed,  as  to  find  that  there  is  no  brook 
which  would  float  a  birch  canoe  there,  far  less 
any  on  which  the  beautiful  barge  could  come 
up  under  the  castle  window.  But  I  never  was 
brute  enough  to  tell  that  to  any  one  before 
now. 

The  guide-book  explains  that  you  are  at  some 
distance  from  the  famous  pass  at  Roncesvalles. 
All  the  same,  you  understand  all  about  it.  The 
whole  region  suggests  passes,  —  passes  like  Ther- 
mopylae between  the  mountains  and  the  sea, 
and  passes  of  which  Roncesvalles  was  one,  —  as 
you  go  through  the  mountains. 

They  do  say,  now,  that  the  famous  fight  at 
Roncesvalles  was  nothing  but  a  foraging  skir- 
mish, in  which  the  Spaniards  cut  off  a  small 
rear-guard  of  Charlemagne's.     But  they  did  not 


24  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

say  so  once.  Here  is  Bishop  Turpin's  account 
of  it,  —  a  good  deal  abridged  by  this  copyist,  — 
if,  indeed,  the  Bishop  lived  to  write  it,  as  above 
questioned. 

"  Charles  now  began  his  march  through  the 
pass  of  the  mountains,  giving  the  command  of 
the  rear  to  his  nephew  Roland  and  to  Oliver, 
Count  of  Auvergne,  ordering  them  to  keep  the 
pass  at  Ronceval  with  thirty  thousand  men,  while 
he  passed  it  with  the  rest  of  the  army.  .  .  . 
When  he  had  safely  passed  the  narrow  strait 
between  the  mountains,  with  twenty  thousand 
of  his  warriors,  with  Turpin,  the  archbishop, 
and  Ganalon,  and  while  the  rear  kept  guard, 
early  in  the  morning  Marsir  and  Beligard,  rush- 
ing down  from  the  hills,  where  by  Ganalon's 
advice  they  had  lain  two  days  in  ambush,  form- 
ing their  troops  into  two  great  divisions,  and 
with  the  first  of  twenty  thousand  men  attacked 
our  army,  which,  making  a  bold  resistance, 
fought  from  morning  to  the  third  hour,  and 
utterly  destroyed  the  enemy.  But  a  fresh  corps 
of  thirty  thousand  Saracens  now  poured  furi- 
ously down  upon  the  Christians,  already  faint 
and  exhausted  with  fighting  so  long,  and  smote 
them  from  high  to  low,  so  that  scarcely  one 
escaped.  Some  were  transpierced  with  lances, 
some  killed  with  clubs  ;  others  beheaded,  burned, 
flayed   alive,   or  suspended   upon   trees.      Only 


RONCESVALLES.  2$ 

Roland,  Baldwin,  and  Thcodoric  were  left ; 
the  last  two  gained  the  woods,  and  finally 
escaped.  .  .  . 

"  As  Roland  was  returning  after  the  battle  to 
view  the  Saracen  army,  ascending  a  lofty  hill, 
and  seeing  many  Christians  returning  by  the 
Ronceval  road,  he  blew  his  horn,  and  was  joined 
by  about  a  hundred  of  them,  with  whom  he 
returned  to  a  black  Saracen,  whom  he  had  cap- 
tured and  bound,  and  promised  to  give  him  his 
life  if  he  would  show  him  Marsir,  which  having 
been  done  he  set  him  at  liberty.  Roland  was 
soon  again  among  the  thickest  of  the  enemy, 
and  finding  one  of  huger  stature  than  the  rest 
he  hewed  him  and  his  horse  in  twain,  so  that 
the  halves  fell  different  ways.  Marsir  and  his 
companions  then  fled;  but  Roland,  trusting  to 
divine  aid,  rushed  forward  and  slew  Marsir 
upon  the  spot.  But  by  this  time  all  his  Chris- 
tian companions  were  slain,  and  Roland  sorely 
wounded  in  five  places  by  lances  and  grievously 
battered  with  stones.  Beligard,  seeing  Marsir 
had  fallen,  retired  from  the  field,  whilst  Thco- 
doric and  Baldwin  and  some  few  other  Chris- 
tians made  their  way  through  the  pass,  towards 
which  Roland  came  likewise,  and,  alighting  from 
his  steed,  stretched  himself  on  the  ground  near 
a  block  of  marble. 

"  Here  he  drew  his  sword  Durenda,  which  he 


26  -  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

would  sooner  have  lost  his  arm  than  parted  with, 
and  addressed  it  in  these  words :  — 

" '  O  sword  of  unparalleled  brightness,  ex- 
cellent dimensions,  admirable  temper,  and  hilt 
of  the  whitest  ivory ;  decorated  with  a  splendid 
cross  of  gold,  topped  by  a  berylline  apple,  en- 
graved with  the  sacred  name  of  God,  endued 
with  keenness  and  every  other  virtue, — who  now 
shall  wield  thee  in  battle,  who  shall  call  thee 
master?'  and  at  the  end  of  a  long  address  he 
said :  '  Thus  do  I  prevent  thy  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  Saracens.'  So  saying  he  struck 
the  block  of  marble  twice,  and  cleft  it  to  the 
midst  and  broke  the  sword  in  twain. 

"  He  now  blew  a  loud  blast  with  his  horn. 
This  horn  was  endued  with  such  power  that  all 
other  horns  were  split  by  its  sound ;  and  at 
this  time  Roland  blew  with  such  force  that  he 
burst  the  veins  and  nerves  of  his  neck.  Charle- 
magne heard  the  sound  eight  miles  away,  but 
the  false  traitor  Ganalon  persuaded  him  that 
Roland  had  used  it  only  in  hunting.  Roland, 
meanwhile,  grew  very  thirsty,  and  asked  Bald- 
win for  water.  But  Baldwin  could  find  none. 
He  mounted  his  horse,  and  galloped  for  aid  to 
the  army.     Roland  offered  this  confession :  — 

" '  O  Father,  true,  who  canst  not  lie  ; 

Who  didst  Lazarus  raise  with  life  again, 
And  Daniel  shield  in  the  lion's  den, — 
Shield  my  soul  from  its  peril  due, 
For  the  sins  sinned  my  lifetime  through  ; '  — 


JiONCESVALLES.  27 

and  then  his  soul  winged  its  flight  from  his 
body,  and  was  borne  by  angels  to  Paradise, 
where  he  reigns  with  transcendent  glory,  united 
by  his  meritorious  deeds  to  the  blessed  choir  of 
martyrs." 

Thus  far  Bishop  Turpin. 

The  Spanish  ballads  seldom  give  the  same 
names  to  any  of  the  chiefs,  but  Roland  docs  ap- 
pear as  Roldan.  They  make  the  French  leader, 
Durandarte,  whose  name  perhaps  comes  from 
Roland's  sword,  say  to  Montesinos,  as  he  dies: 

"  O  my  cousin  Montesinos, 

Foully  has  this  battle  sped; 
On  the  field  our  hero  Roldan, 
Dona  Alda's  husband,  's  dead." 

Yet  another  Spanish  ballad  makes  Bernardo 
del  Carpio  to  be  the  conqueror.  Yes,  Dick,  the 
same  you  used  to  speak  about  at  the  high  school, 
who 

"  In  the  dust  sat  down." 

In  Tom  Hood's  charming  version  of  the 
Chanson  of  Roland,  the  hero  had  just  ceased  to 
breathe  when  Charlemagne  arrived  on  the  field. 

Not  till  he  had  utterly  destroyed  the  army 
would  he  consent  to  dismount  from  his  horse. 
He  tore  his  gray  hair  and  long  beard,  and 
ordered  the  bodies  of  Turpin,  Oliver,  Mirliton, 
and  the  rest  to  be  placed  in  coffins  of  black 
marble,  and  bore  them  back  to  France  with  all 
honor. 


CHAPTER   II. 

BAYONNE  TO   MADRID. 

THE  journey  to  Burgos  from  Bayonne  is 
charming  all  the  way.  The  whole  detention  at 
Irun  is,  perhaps,  half  an  hour.  The  ridge  of  the 
Pyrenees  holds  westward  along  the  northern 
shore,  but  there  are  some  fine  glimpses  of  the 
Bay  of  Biscay.  You  see  the  island,  which  was 
neutral  ground,  in  the  river  where  French  kings 
and  Spanish  princes  used  to  meet.  Either  it  was 
then  larger,  or  they  took  very  little  room.  The- 
ophile  Gautier,  who  wrote  an  amusing  book  of 
travels  here,  says  it  is  no  bigger  than  a  fried  sole ; 
nor  is  this  very  much  out  of  the  way. 

The  Basques  look  their  character,  —  intelli- 
gent, handsome,  serious  people,  —  the  Yankees 
of  Spain.  I  was  able  at  Bayonne  to  buy  a  book 
of  Basque  songs,  with  music  and  translations, 
but  not  somebody's  archaeological  studies  there. 
There  are  people  who  tell  you  that  these  fisher- 
men knew  of  the  Newfoundland  coast  before 
Cabot,  and  likely  enough  the  right  explorer  in 
the  old  records  could  find  out  now. 


BURGOS   TO  MADRID.  2$ 

The  high  land  is  not  merely  a  line  on  the  sea. 
All  the  way  from  Irun  to  Burgos  is  a  difficult 
passage,  by  admirable  engineering,  through 
mountain  passes.  It  is  wonderfully  picturesque, 
and  wherever  we  could  draw  we  were  kept  busy. 
There  is  one  pass  which  we  descended,  thorough- 
ly Swiss  in  its  sudden  turns  and  bold  huggings 
of  the  stream.  There  are,  alas  !  only  too  many 
tunnels  for  the  picturesque.  M.  counted  four- 
teen in  four  miles,  between  two  stations.  The 
people  work  bravely  in  their  fields,  and  I  think 
grow  wheat  quite  high  up.  It  may  not  be  wheat, 
but  looked  like  wheat  in  the  blade.  The  news- 
paper spoke  of  very  severe  heat  in  Madrid.  But 
we  were  glad  of  all  our  wraps  as  night  came 
on. 

The  cathedral  at  Burgos  is  wonderful.  It  is 
300  feet  long,  with  the  addition,  beside  that  of 
the  Constable's  Chapel,  built  on  east  of  the  choir 
proper.  I  have  seen  nothing  like  it.  It  is  not 
so  large  as  Cologne.  But  the  finish  is  perfect. 
The  glass  was  unfortunately  broken  in  the  ex- 
plosion of  a  magazine  when  Wellington  was 
fighting  here.  But  excepting  that,  there  is  very 
little  sign  of  the  havoc  of  time.  The  marvel  is' 
that  even  little  details  of  the  past  exist  as  they 
might  in  the  thirteenth  or  fourteenth  century. 
The  full  prospective  of  the  nave  is  broken  by  a 
large  chapel  for  service,  introduced  first  in  the 


30  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

middle  of  it.  One  end  of  this  is  a  screen  in  bronze 
or  brass,  which  is  very  grand  ;  not  more  than  two 
hundred  years  old  I  fancy,  certainly  if  the  Renais- 
sance, but  singularly  rich  in  the  multitude  and  va- 
riety of  the  figures.  O'Shea's  faithful  guide-book 
tells  me  that  it  was  begun  in  1577  and  completed 
in  1593.  It  is  a  series  of  absolutely  complete  re 
lievos  of  scenes  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament 
first  separated  by  the  architectural  work,  which  is 
arranged  as  if  this  were  a  sort  of  facade  three 
stories  high. 

Thanks  to  their  maintaining,  in  a  fashion,  the 
same  faith  which  built  the  cathedral,  the  several 
chapels  are  kept  up  sympathetically,  and  Mass 
is  said  in  each  of  them  every  day.  In  one  they 
show  the  wooden  effigy  of  Christ  on  the  cross, 
which,  the  story  says,  was  picked  up  floating  at 
sea  wrapped  in  a  buffalo  skin.  It  is  supposed  to 
be  the  work  of  Nicodemus  himself.  Whoever 
made  it,  it  is  powerful,  strong,  and  good  sculpture. 
The  head  falls  heavily  and  sadly  on  the  right 
shoulder,  and  the  color  of  the  wood  is  not  unfit 
for  the  purpose.  Eyelashes,  beard  and  other 
hair  are  real  hair,  but  the  effect  is  not  bad. 

In  one  of  the  chapels,  above  and  around  the 
altar  is  a  curious  genealogical  tree  of  Christ. 
Either  carved,  or  possibly  in  terra  cotta,  Abra- 
ham lies  in  the  middle  above  the  altar  asleep, 
and  this  is  his  dream.     From  his  head  rises  a 


BURGOS    TO  MADRID.  3 1 

tree,  of  which  you  see  the  roots  surrounding  him. 
Of  this  tree  the  various  fruits  and  leaves  are  im- 
portant people  in  Christ's  genealogy ;  indeed,  I 
am  not  sure  but  all  the  fifty-one  in  Matthew  are 
there.  They  are  painted  quite  brilliantly,  and 
the  tout  ensemble  is  very  gorgeous. 

But  the  general  effect  of  the  cathedral  is  not 
showy,  but  severe.  Oddly  enough,  I  saw  none  of 
the  May  adoration  of  the  Virgin  which  we  have 
seen  everywhere  in  France,  there  being  no  spe- 
cial altar  adorned  with  white  flowers  in  her  honor. 
While  we  were  there,  a  procession  started  with 
the  hat  to  go  round  the  city,  and  the  guide  told 
us  this  was  a  solemn  act,  repeated  every  year  at 
this  time.  This  may  be  one  of  the  Marian  so- 
lemnities. But  I  saw  no  published  statement  to 
this  effect. 

Now,  the  contrast  between  this  absolutely  lav- 
ish expenditure  of  past  ages  in  the  cathedral,  and 
the  abject  poverty  of  the  present  time,  is  amaz- 
ing. The  shops,  of  which  there  are  legions,  are 
the  drollest  rattle-traps  of  second  and  tenth 
hand  ware. 

The  beggars  are  dressed  in  cloaks  which,  seri- 
ously, may  have  paraded  in  processions  with 
Columbus.  There  is  something  amazing  in  the 
rags.  The  city  is  one  side  of  a  little  brook, 
which  is  called  a  river,  and  by  the  sides  of  which 
there  are  pretty  promenades.     The  railway  sta- 


32  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

tion  is  the  other,  and  the  segregation  of  Burgos 
from  modern  life  is  perfectly  typified  by  the 
gulf  between.  There  is  no  effort,  as  at  Worces- 
ter or  other  such  places,  to  connect  the  new 
monster  with  the  old  dignity.  You  would  say 
they  never  heard  of  the  railways,  and,  if  they 
could  help  it,  never  meant  to. 

If  our  ballad-writing  really  referred  to  the  af- 
fairs of  our  own  day,  —  as  the  severest  critics 
say  it  should,  —  I  should  thus  describe  the  be- 
ginning of  our  journey  to  Madrid  :  — 

"  My  heart  was  happy  when  I  turned  from  Burgos  to  Valla- 
dolid, 
So  happy,  that  I  tell  you  all  the  stupid  actions  that  I  did. 
I  met  a  porter  on  my  way,  he  stopped  me  at  the  station, 
And  the  way  he  marked  my  baides  gave  me  days  of   con- 
sternation; 
Indeed,  you  might  remark  that  he  brought  me  news  of  pain, 
So  long  a  time  it  was  before  I  saw  my  trunks  again." 

But  I  know  that  this  reader  would  follow  with 
more  interest  Mr.  Lockhart's  version  of  the  Span- 
ish ballad :  — 

VALLADOLID. 

"  My  heart  was  happy  when  I  turned  from  Burgos  to  Vallado- 
lid; 
My  heart  that  day  was  light  and  gay,  it  bounded  like  a  kid. 
I  met  a  Palmer  on  the  way,  my  horse  he  bade  me  rein,  — 
'I  left  Valladolid  to-day,  I  bring  thee  news  of  pain  ! 
The  lady-love  whom  thou  dost  seek  in  gladness  and  in  cheer, 
Closed  is  her  eye  and  cold  her  cheek,  I  saw  her  on  her  bier.'  " 


BURGOS   TO  MADRID.  33 

In  the  secrecy  of  these  pages,  I  will  confess 
that  I  think  this  version  very  poor,  and  that 
many  others  of  Mr.  Lockhart's  are  in  the  same 
category.  I  venture  to  say  that  the  rhyme  to 
"Valladolid"  is  poor.  The  lines  should  have 
been  something  like  this :  — 

"  My  heart  was  happy  when  I  turned  from  Burgos  to  Valla- 
dolid ; 
My  heart  was  gay  and  light  that   day  through   Prado  and 
through  alley  led." 

An  absolute  rhyme  seems  to  require  a  refer- 
ence to  the  Fire  Brigade  of  that  time,  thus :  — 

"  My  heart  was  happy  when  I  turned  from  Burgos  to  Vallado- 
lid— 
Happy  as  those  who  take  the  hose  when  by  the  Hook  and 
Ladder  led." 

I  met  in  Madrid  with  the  very  bright  papers 
in  "  Harper's  Monthly  "  in  which  Mr.  Lathrop  and 
Mr.  Reinhart  described  their  experiences  with 
much  spirit  and  fun.  Their  drawings  in  Burgos, 
in  many  instances,  represented  the  very  points 
where  we  had  tried  to  bring  away  our  remem- 
brances on  paper. 

But  I  cannot  even  now  understand  the  way  in 
which  they  speak  of  coming,  as  if  it  were  a  wild 
adventure.  As  I  have  said,  the  railway  is  admi- 
rable, and  of  confessedly  the  very  highest  grade 
of  engineering.  The  arrangements  of  adminis- 
3 


34  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

tration  are  perfect.  The  people  are  gentle,  sim- 
ple, and  singularly  courteous  and  obliging.  They 
remind  me  of  the  quiet  dignity  of  those  nice 
New  Englanders  you  may  see  at  Block  Island. 
I  can  only  imagine  that  Englishmen,  bully- 
ing round  and  expecting  to  use  every  man  as  a 
servant,  may  have  received  in  return  the  rude- 
ness they  gave.  But  for  us,  who  speak  as  we 
should  speak  in  America  to  a  man  in  a  shop,  or 
a  person  of  whom  we  asked  the  way,  — which,  I. 
need  not  say,  we  often  have  to  do,  —  there  has 
been  nothing  but  a  courteous  civility.  Perhaps  I 
ought  to  except  one  railroad  man,  who  thought 
I  wanted  four  sleeping-cars  to  take  me  fifty  miles 
in  the  evening.  But  that  was  perhaps  the  fault 
of  my  Spanish  as  much  as  of  his  temper. 

Perhaps  it  is  the  business  of  a  guide-book  to 
grumble,  as  it  is  for  an  art  critic  to  find  fault. 
But  I  do  not  think  so.  I  think  that  the  art 
critic  generally  shows  that  he  is  a  fool ;  and,  in 
the  case  of  Spain,  I  am  sure  that  the  men  who 
made  Murray's  first  volume  and  O'Shea's  book 
do  not  appreciate  the  fine  features  of  the  country 
or  the  fine  qualities  of  the  people. 

Murray's  second  volume,  by  Mr.  Ford,  is  quite 
a  different  book,  but  seems  to  me  overrated ; 
I  hope,  before  this  book  passes  the  press,  that 
Madame  Riano's  new  edition  of  it  may  be  before 
the  public. 


BURGOS   TO  MADRID.  35 

This  is  sure,  that  a  man  must  have  travelled 
in  America  very  little,  if  he  finds  much  fault 
with  the  external  arrangements  for  travellers  in 
Spain.  A  friend  at  Madrid  asked  how  I  found 
the  inn  at  Burgos.  I  said  we  were  perfectly 
comfortable,  —  that  the  people  were  very  oblig- 
ing and  the  beds  neat  and  clean. 

"And  the  food?" 

"Why,"  I  said,  "it  was  Spanish,  and  very 
nice;  served  perfectly,  neatly,  warm,  and  well." 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  it  is  easy  to  see  that  you  are 
easily  pleased." 

Perhaps  I  am.  But  I  could  have  gone  on  to 
say  to  her  that  outside  the  Tremont  or  the 
Parker  House,  or  half  a  dozen  of  such  American 
hotels,  I  could  have  nowhere  in  America  been 
as  attentively  or  practically  as  well  served.  The 
service  has  the  element  of  personal  attention  and 
desire  to  please,  of  which  hotel  service  with  us  is 
fatally  destitute. 

When  it  comes  to  the  railways,  it  is  true  that 
I  did  find  that  the  time-tables  did  not  look  as  if 
they  were  adjusted  for  me,  or  their  plans  did 
not  suit  me.  It  is,  therefore,  just  possible  that 
the  administration  had  not  heard  that  I  was  com- 
ing. For  I  like  to  travel  in  the  daytime,  as  I 
have  said.  If  I  had  my  own  way,  I  would  travel 
from  nine  till  one.  I  would  then  rest  in  a  neat, 
quiet  country  hotel  until  the  hour  before  dark. 


2>6  SEVEN   SPANISH  CITIES. 

For  two  hours  then  I  would  resume  my  journey, 
but  for  no  longer  time.  And  possibly  travel 
may  be  so  arranged  in  Arcadia,  when  Arcadia 
shall  grow  large  enough  for  such  railway  lines. 

But,  unfortunately,  the  mercantile  public  do 
not  travel  to  see  the  country.  They  want  to 
pass  through  the  country  by  night,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, so  that  they  may  have  as  much  daylight  as 
possible  for  their  business  in  large  towns.  -That 
is  to  say,  the  artist,  loafer,  student,  poet,  or  man 
of  leisure  has  one  wish  in  travelling,  and  the 
men  of  business  have  another,  which  is  diametri- 
cally opposite.  The  first  class  writes  the  guide- 
books, the  sketches  of  travel,  and  describes  the 
railway.  The  second  class  builds  the  railways 
and  pays  for  them.  If  one  who  belongs  to  the 
first  class,  as  I  do,  will  squarely  remind  himself 
that  he  and  his  never  could  and  never  would 
have  created  the  railway  system,  he  may  find  it 
easier  to  accept  the  inevitable,  and  adapt  himself, 
without  grumbling,  to  the  arrangements  made 
by  and  for  the  people  who  do  build  them. 

The  newspapers  had  been  warning  us  all 
through  the  early  days  of  May  that  the  heat  of 
Madrid  was  intolerable.  But  I  arrived  there  on 
a  day  which  was  comfortable  enough,  and  for 
the  next  three  days  it  rained  a  considerable  part 
of  the  time. 

If  I  wrote   in   the   ordinary  traveller   style,  I 


BURGOS   TO  MADRID.  37 

should  say  it  always  rained  in  Madrid.  But  had 
I  spent  a  week  there  a  fortnight  before,  I  should 
have  said  that  it  was  always  as  hot  as  —  a  glass 
furnace.  So  unreliable  are  first  impressions. 
The  Festa  of  Ascencion  was  going  on,  my  first 
day.  It  was  interrupted  by  a  shower  of  rain 
and  hail.  As  we  rode  (in  a  tram-car}  to  the 
gallery,  when  we  came  to  the  Prado  it  was 
raining  and  hailing  so  like  fury  that  the  streets 
were  running  rivers,  and  we  were  glad  to  pay 
three  cents  each  to  go  on  in  the  car  to  the  end  of 
its  route,  and  come  back  again. 

But  at  once  we  were  told  that  this  is  purely 
exceptional.  There  had  been  no  rain  before  in 
Madrid  for  a  month,  and  all  Madrid  may  be 
supposed  to  bless  us  for  bringing  it.  If  we 
should  stay  a  month  more,  no  such  thing  might 
happen  again.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that,  as  in 
most  countries  I  have  ever  lived  in,  farmers  are 
dying  for  rain,  and  that  this  year's  harvest,  what- 
ever that  may  be  on  these  barren  hills  three  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea,  is  supposed  to  be  lost 
irremediably.  Oddly  enough,  in  the  midst  of 
this  destitution  we  ate,  strawberries,  asparagus, 
string-beans,  and  new  potatoes,  not  brought  from 
afar.  I  cannot  quite  understand  this ;  nor  have 
I  met  any  one  who  explains  it. 

The  English  guide-books,  and  other  authori- 
ties as  superficial,  can  make  nothing  of  Madrid, 


38  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

and  occupy  themselves  very  much  by  telling 
you  what  it  is  not.  I  had  the  notion  that  it  was 
a  sort  of  manufactured  city  like  Munich.  So  it 
is  in  a  sense  ;  but  when  one  thinks,  one  sees  why 
it  is  manufactured,  and  the  place  becomes  inter- 
esting, because  intelligible.  Whoever  built  it 
wanted  to  do  what  Victoria  did  in  founding  Ot- 
tawa, and  our  fathers  in  making  Washington ; 
viz.,  to  break  up  the  local  jealousies  of  the  pro- 
vincial cities.  In  that  regard  it  is  very  like 
Washington.  But  it  is  as  large  as  Boston. 
There  is  a  very  large  garrison,  all  the  life  of  a 
court  and  of  a  parliament,  and  the  government 
spends  money  like  water. 

Now  you  will  observe,  in  a  moment,  that  I 
might  say  many  of  these  things  of  the  city  of 
Washington.  But  in  my  first  and  second  stay 
in  Madrid  I  was  noticing  resemblances  between 
the  two  cities.  Thus  there  are  splendid  public 
buildings  and  some  very  wretched  private  ones. 
Some  very  great  projects  have  been  admirably 
carried  through,  and  some  have  been  begun 
upon  and  never  finished.  Just  now  they  change 
their  kings  as  often  as  we  change  our  presidents, 
and  their  administrations  as  often  as  we  change 
our  cabinets.  I  fancy,  therefore,  that  there  is 
with  pretty  much  anybody  you  meet  that  sense 
of  uncertainty,  almost  of  lottery,  which  is  so 
amusing  at  Washington.     It  is  this  which  makes 


BURGOS   TO  MADRID.  39 

everybody  there  so  eager  to  get  what  he  can  out 
of  to-day.  Everybody  is  willing  to  condone  yes- 
terday's faults ;  and  though  everybody  is  schem- 
ing, nobody  expects  much  from  to-morrow,  or 
relies  much  upon  it.  Perhaps  this  is  a  fancy, 
but  it  seems  to  me  that  you  see  the  same  thing 
in  Madrid.  The  books  call  it  a  mock  Paris;  but 
it  did  not  seem  in  the  least  to  me  like  Paris,  and 
I  did  not  think  it  pretended  to.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain gravity  in  the  demeanor  of  the  men,  — just 
what  we  should  call  "  Spanish  gravity  "  at  home. 
Of  every  gentleman  you  meet  in  the  street  you 
would  say  in  Boston,  "  That  man  is  certainly  a 
Spanish  teacher  of  languages."  And  you  would 
be  sorry  for  him,  because  he  looked  so  grave. 
You  would  say,  "  Poor  fellow !  I  am  so  sorry 
for  him,  because  he  is  an  exile." 

I  reserve  to  myself  the  right  in  the  order  of 
these  sketches  to  describe  the  museums  and 
other  galleries  of  Madrid  at  some  little  length 
by  and  by.  We  shall  all  have  comfortably  re- 
turned to  Madrid  then,  "  to  inhabit  there,"  and 
we  can  then  "  dilate  with  the  right  emotions." 

But,  as  I  say,  we  will  discuss  all  this  at  more 
length  by  and  by. 

We  have  merely  come  to  Madrid,  at  this  time, 
on  our  way  to  the  southern  cities ;  and  we  hurry 
to  them  because  we  are  afraid  of  the  heat. 


CHAPTER   III. 

CORDOVA. 

We  all  leave  Madrid  in  an  evening  train  bound 
for  Cordova.  The  Spaniards  told  Mr.  Reinhart 
that  the  sleeping-car  was  one  of  the  compensa- 
tions which  America  had  given  them  in  return 
for  what  America  owed  to  Christopher  Colum- 
bus. For  my  part,  I  never  succeeded  in  enter- 
ing a  sleeping-car  in  Spain,  —  they  call  them 
zvag07is-lits.  I  do  not  know  why  my  luck  was  so 
bad  ;  but  I  suppose  I  was  as  modest  and  shy  as 
some  English  friends  of  mine  who  travelled  a 
thousand  or  two  miles  in  America  last  autumn 
on  first-class  trains,  before  they  discovered  the 
existence  even  of  the  parlor-cars,  which  were  on 
every  one  of  those  trains.  Shrinking  people 
like  me  sometimes  suffer  from  their  modesty. 
But  because  we  were  dressed  and  sitting  upright 
at  midnight,  or  a  little  later,  we  had  an  adven- 
ture at  Alcazar.  This  adventure  is  described  by 
all  Spanish  travellers ;  and  no  wonder.  Some- 
where between  twelve  and  one  the  train  stopped 
to  pass  the  night   train  for  the  northward,  all 


CORDOVA.  41 

these  roads  being  of  a  single  track.  You  have 
half  an  hour  to  stop  when  you  have  finished 
your  first  nap,  and  when  you  are  told  there  is 
refreshment  at  the  Fonda,  you  naturally  tumble 
out. 

Note  that  Fonda  is  the  wreck  of  the  Latin 
word  Fundus,  a  farm,  though  it  now  always 
means  a  tavern  or  a  restaurant.  Note  the  his- 
tory in  civilization  implied  in  this  change  in  the 
meaning  of  the  word.  One  can  easily  enough 
see  that  in  Texas  to-day,  or  in  the  Indian  Ter- 
ritory, a  man  riding  about  after  his  cattle  or 
sheep,  if  he  wanted  cooked  food,  would  go  to 
the  first  farm-house.  So  it  is  that,  in  the  loner 
run  in  such  a  country,  farm-house  stands  for 
"eating-house."  Into  the  Fonda  we  went.  Two 
or  three  long  tables  were  set  all  ready.  At  each 
seat  was  a  bowl  of  hot  chocolate  paste.  Paste 
it  should  be  called,  though  you  could  pour  it, 
if  you  chose,  from  bowl  to  bowl.  They  say  a 
spoon  will  stand  in  Spanish  chocolate.  This  is 
not  quite  true ;  but  a  crust  of  bread  or  a  long 
slice  of  cake  will  stand  erect  in  it  and  not  fall 
to  the  side  of  the  cup.  By  the  side  of  each 
bowl  of  chocolate  was  a  large  fresh  sponge- 
cake, still  on  the  sheet  of  white  paper  on  which 
it  had  been  baked.  It  was  just  what  we  call  a 
"  Naples  biscuit,"  only  a  great  deal  nicer  than 
our   confectioners    generally   choose   to    make, 


42  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

and  a  great  deal  larger.  You  break  up  this 
sponge-cake  in  bits,  dip  the  chocolate  with  it, 
and  eat.  So  nicely  are  the  two  adjusted  to  each 
other,  that  when  you  have  done  the  cake  you 
have  also  finished  the  chocolate.  You  are  now 
ready  to  go  to  sleep  again ;  and  for  one,  I  wish 
that  any  other  form  of  civilization  known  to  me 
would  give  me  such  a  repast  in  the  middle  of 
every  night  just  after  my  first  nap. 

Just  then  it  is,  as  you  leave  the  table  and  pay 
your  modest  scot,  that  a  brigand-looking  man, 
with  a  sash  a  foot  wide  around  his  waist  stuck 
full  of  knives  and  daggers,  cries  out  "  Cuchillos 
para  matar,  Cuchillos  para  matar."  This  means 
"  knives  for  murder."  In  fact,  all  his  things 
could  be  used  for  this  purpose,  if,  as  old  Charles 
Pinkney  says,  your  principles  did  not  stand  in 
the  way.  Ours  did  ;  but  all  the  same  we  bought 
a  good  many  of  the  knives,  and  at  this  moment 
one  lies  in  its  purple  sheath  by  this  writing-desk 
ready  to  do  the  modest  work  of  a  paper-cutter. 

Alcazar  means  the  Ccesar,  originally.  So  it 
came  around  to  mean  the  Palace,  and  I  fancy 
it  is  as  frequent  a  word  in  Spain  as  Kingston 
might  be  in  America.  At  any  rate,  I  find  three 
"  Alcazars  "  as  the  names  of  towns  in  a  some- 
what limited  index  in  Murray.  They  still  keep 
up  at  this  Alcazar  some  little  iron-works,  of 
which  the  fruits  were  thus  sold  to  us.      I  am 


CORDOVA.  43 

told  that  the  Spaniards  can  still  make  as  good 
cutlery  as  they  could  in  the  days  of  the  best 
Toledo  blades.  As  I  have  or  have  not  said 
already,  its  distinction  as  a  metallurgic  country 
was  what  first  interested  eastern  or  civilized 
Europe  in  Spain.  The  quality  of  the  specular 
iron-ore  was  very  good,  and  this  ore  is  not  yet 
exhausted.  To  the  great  grief  of  the  English 
free-traders,  they  insist  upon  keeping  up  a  stiff 
protective  tariff;  and  so  we  bought  our  little 
knives  cheaply  enough,  as  it  seemed  to  me, 
very  likely  from  the  man  that  made  them.  But 
I  believe  that  on  theory  he  ought  to  have  been 
doing  nothing  eleven  months  in  the  year,  while 
the  crop  of  Esparto  grass  was  growing  wild ; 
that  he  should  then  have  sent  this  to  England 
for  sale,  and  should  have  been  paid  for  it  in 
some  knives  made  at  Sheffield,  which  he  should 
then  have  offered  to  me  at  Alcazar.  But,  in 
point  of  fact,  I  should  not  then  have  bought  the 
knife. 

Sure  that  we  could  defend  ourselves  now  if 
we  were  attacked  by  train  wreckers,  as  we  were 
not,  we  slept  tranquilly  enough  until  morn- 
ing. I  am  sorry  and  ashamed  to  say  that  in 
this  unromantic  way  we  passed  all  through 
La  Mancha,1  the  country  of  Don  Quixote  and 
dear  Sancho  Panza,  and  I  am  sorry  to  add  that 

1  Which  means,  they  say,  "a  spot ;  "  that  is,  a  blot. 


44  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

I  did  the  same  thing  on  my  return  northward 
some  weeks  after.  It  would  have  been  so  much 
better  every  way  to  have  jumbled  along  on  four 
little  jackasses,  with  our  baggage  in  alforcas 
and  our  rations  in  haversacks  and  canteens. 
By  the  way,  canteen  is  a  Spanish  word  from 
cantina.  A  great  many  of  our  maritime  and 
our  military  words  have,  like  this,  a  Spanish 
origin. 

But  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  did  not  find  any- 
where any  popular  traces  or  reminiscences  of 
dear  Don  Quixote  or  Sancho.  And  I  should 
think  that  other  recent  travellers  have  had  the 
same  experience.  I  found  a  fairly  intelligent 
courier,  who  had  been  for  twenty  years  taking 
travelling  parties  all  over  Spain,  who  did  not 
know  what  I  meant  when  I  talked  of  La  Mancha 
and  of  its  two  great  heroes. 

Don  Quixote  was  for  sale  in  every  book- 
store, and  in  good  modern  editions.  But,  in 
nearly  two  months,  it  did  not  happen  to  me  to 
hear  any  person  allude  to  the  Don  or  to  the  squire, 
unless  I  led  the  conversation  that  way.  And  I 
do  not  think  that  in  the  very  piquant  rattle  of 
the  daily  newspapers  with  which  Spain  is  flooded 
I  ever  saw  any  reference  to  either  of  them. 
Nor,  indeed,  should  I  think  the  Spanish  espe- 
cially fond  of  proverbs.  I  know  perfectly  well 
that  a  traveller  might  spend  six  weeks  in  the 


CORDOVA.  45 

United  States  without  hearing  any  one  speak  of 
George  Washington  or  Benjamin  Franklin.  But 
I  do  not  mean  to  compare  these  heroes  with  the 
Don  and  with  Sancho. 

The  reader  of  Don  Quixote,  if  he  choose  to 
follow  us,  will  see  that  we  crossed  the  Don's 
path  once  and  again  in  Andalusia  and  in  other 
parts  of  Spain.  It  is  simply  of  La  Mancha  that 
I  "  confess  ignorance." 

With  the  morning  light,  it  was  clear  enough 
that  we  had  made  one  of  those  charming  con- 
trasts which  are  the  special  gifts  of  modern  con- 
veyance. I  left  New  England  once,  when  there 
was  good  sleighing,  took  a  steamer  for  Charles- 
ton, and  landed  there  to  find  the  girls  bringing 
in  great  baskets  full  of  roses  from  the  gardens. 
I  left  a  hard-coal  fire  at  Louisville  once,  to  come 
out  for  my  next  stay  at  New  Orleans,  with  the 
oranges  of  one  year  still  on  the  trees  side  by 
side  with  the  orange  blossoms  of  the  next. 
Such  are  among  the  minor  comforts  of  steam. 
We  were  now  in  the  valley  of  the  Guadal- 
quivir, the  Baetis.  Guadalquivir  is  a  corrup- 
tion from  the  Arabic  Wada-1-Kebir,  or  "  the  Great 
River."  Old  Latin-school  boys  will  sympathize 
with  me  when  I  say  that  I  have  always  had  a 
grudge  against  this  river,  because  it  chose  to 
have  its  accusative  in  im  and  its  ablative  in  i. 
This  idiosyncrasy  of  the  river  gave  me  much  care 


46  SEVEN   SPANISH   CITIES. 

and  trouble  in  my  day,  not  to  speak  of  thousands 
of  my  fellow-pupils  and  of  my  masters.  For  it- 
self, the  poor  river  was  perhaps  unconscious  of  its 
accusative;  and  a  very  charming  river  it  is.  It 
waters  a  very  charming  valley,  for  in  southern 
Spain,  when  you  say  "  water,"  you  mean  oranges 
and  lemons  and  figs  and  olives  and  oil  and 
grapes  and  raisins  and  wine  and  apricots  and 
strawberries  and  roses  and  lilies  and  heliotropes 
and  wheat  and  barley  and  oats  and  grass  and 
clover  and  alfalfa,  and  everything  else  which 
will  delight  the  heart  of  man  or  make  his  face  to 
shine.  You  begin  to  see  bayonet  palms,  possi- 
bly bananas,  Mexican  agaves,  prickly  pears,  with 
pecan-trees  and  other  trees  which  remind  you 
of  Mexico  and  Louisiana. 

All  this  is  the  result  of  irrigation.  It  is  to 
irrigation,  and  to  irrigation  only,  that  you  owe  it 
that  Spain  is  spoken  of  as  a  country  so  fertile. 
At  the  same  time,  as  most  readers  will  remem- 
ber, you  never  read  of  Spain  but  people  call  it 
"  arid."  The  truth  is,  that  you  may  have  almost 
everything  in  the  way  of  water  supply  in  one 
part  of  Spain  or  in  another.  The  annual  rain- 
fall in  Madrid  is  but  twelve  inches,  and  the  rain- 
fall for  six  months  of  summer  is  but  five.  But 
the  annual  rainfall  in  Seville  is  twenty-three 
inches,  while  the  summer  rainfall  is  hardly 
larger  than  that  of  Madrid.     In  parts  of  Spain, 


CORDOVA.  47 

as  in  La  Mancha,  there  have  been  periods  of  five 
years  without  a  drop  of  rain.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  Granada,  where  they  have  the  advan- 
tage of  the  high  Sierra  Nevada,  the  average  rain- 
fall is  thirty-two  inches.  Their  problem,  then,  is 
to  spread  their  water  "  where  it  will  do  the  most 
good."  It  must  not  rush  through  torrents  to 
the  sea,  but  must  be  caught  at  every  corner,  and 
made  to  distil  gently  over  fertile  lowlands,  which 
would  else  be  dry.  This  they  do  by  their  very 
simple  irrigation  works.  In  all  Spain  there  are 
374,000  acres  irrigated  in  this  way.  It  seems 
very  little ;  it  is  only  eighteen  old  Maine  town- 
ships of  six  miles  square.  But  if  you  put  it  in 
wheat  only,  at  fifty  bushels  an  acre,  you  would 
have  nearly  two  millions  of  bushels,  which  is  the 
annual  bread  supply  of  four  hundred  thousand 
men.  In  point  of  fact,  you  do  not  put  it  in 
wheat  very  largely.  You  put  it  in  wine,  oil, 
raisins,  .figs,  and  other  such  fancy  crops,  if  you 
may  call  them  so,  which  will  sell  for  a  great  deal 
more  than  fifty  bushels  of  wheat  for  an  acre. 

I  had  seen  in  Colorado  their  irrigation  works, 
where  they  are  introducing  the  same  system. 
Oddly  enough,  they  learn  how  to  do  it  from 
Spaniards,  whose  ancestors  learned  in  this  very 
Andalusia,  or  in  many  cases  from  my  friends  the 
Pueblo  Indians,  who  irrigated,  I  believe,  before 
the  Spaniards  taught  them  how.     I  should   like 


48  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

to  see  some  township  in  Berkshire  or  Hampden 
try  the  experiment  along  six  or  eight  miles  of 
that  brawling  Westfield  River.  You  would  dam 
it  from  point  to  point,  so  that  the  head  should 
be  nowhere  dangerously  high,  and  then  you 
would  lead  a  zigzag  ditch  for  irrigation,  falling 
perhaps  a  foot  in  a  mile,  or  even  less,  wherever 
the  slope  of  the  hill  might  lead  you.  There 
would  have  to  be  some  common  law  regulating 
the  water-rights  of  the  several  meadow  proprie- 
tors. You  see  that  the  original  investment  is 
not  severe.  And  when  you  compare  the  results 
of  steady,  even  moisture  against  the  results 
given  by  the  average  of  one  of  our  fitful  sum- 
mers, the  gain  of  the  crop  is  enormous. 

Anybody  who  will  read  Amicis's  amusing  ac- 
count of  his  visit  to  Cordova,  or  Theophile  Gau- 
tier's,  will  have  reason  to  expect,  even  from 
people  as  unromantic  as  we  are,  something  en- 
tirely out  of  the  range  of  the  nineteenth  century 
now  we  come  into  Cordova.  But  I  will  not 
abuse  this  reader  by  inventing  black-eyed  Moor- 
ish houris,  as  I  am  afraid  both  these  writers  do. 
There  ought  to  be  enough  in  the  square  truth, 
if  one  could  only  get  on  paper  the  impression 
which  the  first  Moorish  city  he  has  ever  seen 
makes  upon  him. 

Cordova  had  been  an  important  city  in  Caesar's 
time.     There  were  people  enough  in  it  then  for 


CORDOVA.  49 

Caesar  to  kill  twenty-eight  thousand  of  them  by 
way  of  punishment  for  their  adherence  to  Pom- 
pcy.  Of  this  Roman  occupation  you  see  signs 
to  this  hour.  But,  as  the  city  stands,  it  dates 
from  the  Moorish  times ;  it  declared  its  inde- 
pendence in  756,  and  became  the  capital  of  the 
Moorish  empire  of  Spain.  In  the  tenth  century 
three  hundred  thousand  people  lived  here. 
They  had  fifty  hospitals,  which  is,  I  suppose, 
twenty-five  more  than  the  three  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  people  of  Boston  have,  and  in 
one  library  they  had  six  hundred  thousand,  vol- 
umes, which  is  twice  as  many  as  the  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  people  of  Boston  have 
in  their  Public  Library  to-day. 

What  interests  me  more  than  these  figures  — 
which  could  probably  be  stretched  backward  or 
forward  to  mean  much  what  you  choose  —  is  the 
suggestion  one  gets  as  to  the  wise  Moorish  ad- 
ministration, especially  in  public  education  and 
in  the  relief  of  the  poor.  One  of  these  Moorish 
kings,  I  forget  his  name,  did  on  a  large  scale 
what  Rumford  did  on  a  small  scale  in  Bavaria. 
That  is  to  say,  this  Paynim  hound,  this  unbap- 
tized  Saracen,  set  on  foot  a  bureau  of  industry 
which  was  also  an  industrial  school,  at  which  he 
compelled  the  attendance  of  all  his  tramps, 
"  wayside-lodge  people,"  and  other  gentry  who 
had  no  "  visible  means  of  support."  He  had 
4 


50  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

none  of  the  nonsense  of  Monsieur  Marie's  national 
workshops.  He  did  not  dream  of  competing 
with  the  regular  labor  market.  But  he  kept  on 
hand  a  series  of  public  works  which  need  not  be 
done,  but  which  it  was  well  to  do ;  and,  year  by 
year,  these  things  dragged  along  and  eventually 
got  themselves  done  by  the  assistance  of  these 
tramps,  who  were  no  longer  kept  alive  by  Mos- 
lem good-nature  at  the  expense  of  Moslem  grit 
and  muscle,  without  showing  anything  for  their 
work.  Our  system  is  to  give  soup  for  nothing 
to  anybody  who  will  ask  for  it,  if  only  he  be 
clear,  sheer  beggar  enough  to  look  forlorn,  and 
have  lost  his  manliness  enough  to  make  applica- 
tion. But  we  take  care  not  to  make  him  work 
when  he  comes  for  it.  And  if  anybody  pro- 
poses to  teach  the  tramps '  how  to  work  at  the 
public  charge,  or  to  make  them  work  in  the 
public  works,  the  city  solicitor  says  that  the  first 
is  against  the  law,  and  the  park  commissioners 
say  that  the  other  would  be  sentimental  and  not 
business-like. 

In  the  tenth  century,  Cordova  was  a  far  finer 
city  than  Rome  or  Constantinople  or  any  other 
city  in  Europe.  The  Saracen  power  was  so 
vast,  that  the  Caliph  and  other  princes  sent  to 
Abdu-r-rhaman  (the  slave  of  consolation)  mar- 
bles, and  especially  marble  columns,  from  all 
parts  of  the  world  which  they  had  conquered. 


CORDOVA.  51 

This  gave  him  eighteen  hundred  marble  pillars, 
and  he  seems  to  have  founded  the  idea,  any- 
way he  carried  it  out,  of  building  a  sort  of 
palm-grove,  by  using  them,  so  to  speak,  for  the 
trunks  of  the  trees.  As  all  the  pillars  were 
not  of  the  same  height,  they  sometimes  had 
more  and  sometimes  less  work  and  height  to 
the  capitals.  Some  are  of  one  color,  and  some 
of  another.  Then  he  had  at  each  end  eighteen 
doors,  and  he  had  the  whole  a  good  deal  open 
to  the  sky.  So  in  every  direction  there  were 
lovely  vistas,  which  looked  like  the  vistas  in  the 
tall  palm-groves  that  he  was  used  to  in  some 
other  land. 

This  is,  at  least,  the  way  which  all  travellers 
choose  to  describe  the  Great  Mosque  of  Cor- 
dova. So  I  think  there  must  be  something  in 
the  story  of  his  intending  an  imitation  of  a 
grove.  The  mosque,  now  a  cathedral,  is  not 
very  high.  But  it  is  high  enough  to  give  you 
the  sense  and  sentiment  of  a  forest,  and  the 
vastness  in  each  direction  carries  out  that  feel- 
ing. After  the  Conquest,  some  wretched  local 
authorities  —  bishop  and  chapter,  I  guess  —  put 
their  heads  together,  as  if  they  had  had  a  wood- 
paving  job  on  their  conscience,  and  proposed  to 
build  one  of  the  Spanish  'choirs'  just  in  the 
middle  of  this  marble  forest.  Of  course  it 
would,  by  so  much  as  its  space  covered,  break 


52  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

the  magnificent  vistas.  Somebody  had  the  sense 
to  protest.  And  the  question  was  referred  to 
Charles  the  Fifth,  whose  duties  in  ruining  civili- 
zation elsewhere  kept  him  away  from  Spain  a 
good  deal.  He  did  as  such  gentry  do,  —  sus- 
tained the  constituted  authorities.  And  so  this 
great  choir  was  built,  as  you  might  cut  down 
sixty  or  eighty  trees  in  the  middle  of  a  forest 
on  Mattawamkeag  to  build  a  meeting-house  in 
the  approved  architecture  of  Maine  in  the  nine- 
teenth century.  When  Charles  came  to  Cor- 
dova, at  last,  and  the  admiring  choir-builders 
showed  to  him  their  work,  their  emperor  said  to 
them :  "  What  you  have  built  could  have  been 
built  anywhere.  But  you  have  destroyed  what 
was  more  grand  than  anything  left  on  earth." 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  it  did  not  occur  to  him 
that  it  was  he  who  did  the  destroying. 

Around  the  mosque  of  Cordova  is  a  dead 
white  wall.  It  might  be  a  prison.  You  go  in  by 
a  little  gate,  and  you  are  in  a  green  orchard  of 
orange-trees.  Then  by  another  doorway  you 
enter  the  mosque,  and  the  forest  of  marble 
which  I  have  tried  to  describe  is  before  you.  In 
the  endless  variety,  in  the  change  which  every 
inch  of  movement  makes  in  the  perspective  and 
the  vistas,  it  is  not  hard  to  persuade  yourself 
that  you  hear  the  wind,  as  you  might  do  in  a 
forest  at  home. 


CORDOVA.  53 

Our  guide  was  a  Moresco,  who  was,  I  think, 
the  lineal  descendant  of  Haroun  himself,  and  he 
vvas  much  pleased  with  our  acquaintance,  derived 
from  the  Arabian  Nights,  with  the  customs  and 
faith  of  his  ancestry.  We  made  him  read  the 
Arabic  words  over  the  magnificent  pulpit  built  by 
the  Slave  of  Consolation.  And  he  read  :  "  Allah 
alone  is  great.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  Allah. 
There  is  no  strength  or  power  but  in  Allah." 
It  was  exactly  like  our  dear  Lane. 

It  may  assist  the  reader,  as  he  follows  us  into 
the  Moorish  part  of  Spain,  to  know  that  the 
writer  brings  up  his  own  family  on  a  regular 
course  of  the  Arabian  Nights'  Entertainment. 
Their  household  not  only  contains  the  original  in 
the  text  of  Cairo,  for  any  wandering  fakir  to 
read  aloud  from,  but  copies  of  every  well-re- 
puted version.  And  when  better  times  come, 
and  a  competitive  examination  in  the  Arabian 
Nights  is  prescribed  for  candidates  in  the  art  of 
living  well,  the  members  of  this  household  hope 
they  shall  not  be  found  wanting.1 

After  we  had  seen  the  mosque,  they  took  us 
to  the  garden  of  the  Alcazar,  the  old  Moorish 
sachem.      It  is  just  like    the    Arabian    Nights, 

1  Not  to  boast,  but  to  state  a  fact  of  literature,  I  believe  that 
the  version  of  the  first  story  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  pub- 
lished by  me  in  "Crusoe  in  New  York,"  p.  595,  is  the  fullest 
version  in  English  ever  printed  of  any  of  those  stories. 


54  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

with  carp-ponds  and  streams  of  water ;  roses  in 
full  bloom,  and  pomegranates,  palm-trees,  and 
so  on;  figs  not  quite  ripe,  and  ucspolas,  which 
were.  Thence  we  all  went  into  one  of  the  Alca- 
zar's towers  by  the  river-side,  and  made  a  draw- 
ing of  a  bridge  of  which  Augustus  Caesar  made 
the  piers,  we  sitting  under  the  grape-blossoms  of 
a  vine. 

Another  garden,  not  on  the  guide-books,  had 
another  charm.  At  the  hotel,  at  dinner,  a  gen- 
tleman who  was  at  table  d'hote  with  his  wife 
had  been  instructing  me  in  the  art  of  eating 
strawberries.  I  had  thought  this  came  of  nature. 
But  this  was  my  mistake.  When  you  are  in 
Spain,  where  oranges  and  strawberries  are  ripe 
together,  you  avail  yourself  of  what  the  astrono- 
mers would  call  the  synchronous  period,  and  eat 
them  together.  You  fill  a  plate  with  what  we 
should  call  a  quarter-box  of  berries.  You  cover 
them  with  white  sugar.  You  cut  a  perfectly  ripe 
orange,  and  squeeze  the  juice  all  over  berries  and 
sugar.  You  then  take  a  spoon  and  eat.  This 
gentleman,  in  the  courtesy  of  the  country,  ex- 
plained to  us  the  process,  but  said  we  should  eat 
the  fruit  fresh  from  the  vines  and  the  trees,  and, 
that  we  might  do  so,  asked  us  all  to  his  garden 
when  our  sight-seeing  might  be  over.  Thither, 
accordingly,  we  repaired,  and  he  kindly  showed 
to    me    all    the    dainty    irrigation    processes    of 


CORDOVA.  55 

gardening;  he  and  his  pleasant  wife  loaded 
the  ladies  with  flowers,  and  we  ate  strawberries 
as  one  might  do  in  Waterville  in  New  Hamp- 
shire, if  only  its  hemlock  forests  were  orange 
groves. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SEVILLE. 

I  After  being  a  week  in  Spain,  I  wrote  in  Se- 
ville that  "  I  am  yet  to  see  the  first  flea.  I  do  not 
know  the  taste  of  garlic ;  and  for  oil,  I  only- 
know  it  in  the  sweetest  form  on  the  most  ex- 
quisite lettuce.  I  am  living  in  a  hotel  here, 
equal  to  the  best  we  saw  in  Europe,  where  I  pay 
two  dollars  a  day  for  everything.  What  the 
inconveniences  are  of  Spanish  travel  we  have 
yet  to  discover.  On  the  other  hand,  everything 
is  curious  and  entertaining. 

"  The  people  are  charming.  When  we  are  >i 
ready  to  come  here,  we  will  hire  for  a  trifle  some 
old  palace,  built  around  a  court,  with  lions  and 
fountains  and  orange-trees,  with  a  fig-tree  or  two 
growing  up  by  accident.  We  will  spend  our 
days  in  the  gardens  of  the  Alcazar.  That  at 
Cordova  was  but  ill  maintained  by  a  gardener 
who  turned  an  honest  penny  by  selling  lettuce 
and  cabbages.  This  is  maintained  by  the  State. 
They  show  you  the  orange-tree  that  Peter  the 
Cruel  planted;  you  are  tempted  to  try  the  Sul- 


SEVILLE.  57 

tana's  bath,  and  you  vote  Charles  the  Fifth's 
summer  house  to  be  the  one  successful  summer 
home  in  the  world.  It  is  in  as  perfect  condition 
as  when  he  left  it.  The  walls,  inside  and  out,  are 
carved  with  beautiful  enamelled  tiles.  Griffins, 
lions,  satyrs,  unicorns,  pillars  of  Hercules,  castles 
of  Castile,  appear  mixed  up  in  quaint  confusion  ; 
the  tile-makers  not  working  by  a  stencil  pat- 
tern, but  as  their  fancy  dictated,  and  the  tiles, 
for  the  most  part,  as  fresh  as  if  you  bought  the 
best  Minton  tiles  yesterday,  and  far  brighter  in 
color.  The  ceiling  is  of  carved  mahogany,  which 
I  suppose  the  virgin  forests  of  San  Domingo 
furnished." 

People  talk  of  the  old  Italian  style  of  garden- 
ing; and  the  reader  perhaps  remembers  the 
gardening  of  the  Borromean  Islands.  But  this 
is  more  to  my  taste.  In  the  first  place,  there  is 
absolute  seclusion.  The  palace  shields  it  on 
one  or  two  sides ;  on  the  others  a  wall,  like  the 
State-prison  wall  at  Charlestown.  You  see  at 
once  how  a  lover  imprisoned  in  such  a  garden 
could  not  escape  if  his  courage  cooled.  Then 
this  space  is  cut  up  more  or  less  by  high  and 
thick  walls,  on  both  sides  of  which  orange-trees 
are  trained,  en  espalier.  But  the  main  object  is 
shade,  so  desirable  in  a  hot  climate. 

As  we  plant  on  the  south  side  of  a  wall,  they 
would  often  plant  on  the  east,  or  even  the  north. 


53  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

All  these  walks,  however,  are  completely  masked 
by  oranges  or  other  hedges ;  and  so  large  are 
the  arches,  and  so  crafty  the  other  vistas,  that 
you  have  no  feeling  of  being  shut  up  in  court- 
yards. Your  paths,  however,  are  not  gravel,  but 
tiles,  evidently  enamelled  in  the  Moors'  days, 
for  pieces  of  the  enamelled  work  still  appear; 
indeed,  some  of  the  old  walks  are  well  pre- 
served. The  beds  are  perhaps  a  foot  lower  than 
the  walks,  always  bordered  with  box,  laurustinus, 
oranges,  lemons,  or  some  such  evergreen,  care- 
fully trimmed,  and  perhaps  eighteen  inches  high 
and  thick.  The  object  of  all  this  arrangement 
is  irrigation ;  for  all  the  tiles  are  underlaid  with 
pipes,  and  there  are  frequent  holes.  When, 
therefore,  the  gardener  needs,  water  is  turned  on 
the  pipes,  the  tiles  are  suffused  with  it,  it  runs 
off  upon  the  beds,  and  your  flowers  have  the 
comfort  of  moisture  without  watering  pot  or  en- 
gine. Meanwhile,  judging  from  to-day,  you  can 
command  shade  or  draught  much  as  you  choose ; 
and  one  understands  the  love  of  the  Moors  for 
gardens,  and  the  part  they  play  so  often  in  the 
Arabian  Nights. 

I  think  a  man  who  should  live  in  Seville  a 
month  would  understand  better  than  Walter 
Scott  did  how  men  went  and  came  in  Europe  in 
the  times  of  Richard  and  Philip,  and  how  they 
lived  in   Lyons    in   the    days   of  Peter  Waldo. 


SEVILLE.  59 

Streets  narrow  as  Tom  Kelly's  alley,  in  which 
a  donkey  may  only  go  in  a  certain  fixed  di- 
rection, because  he  could  not  pass  another 
donkey,  are  the  very  streets  from  which  you 
enter  a  court-yard  blazing  with  exotic  flowers 
from  all  the  modern  world,  from  which  court- 
yard open  the  rooms  of  a  palace,  with  all  the 
splendors  of  a  palace.  Our  hotel  fronted  on  the 
principal  street  of  the  town.  There  is  not  left 
at  the  North  End  of  Boston  a  street  so  narrow. 
Large  curtains  hang  across  it  at  the  top,  to 
screen  the  upper  rooms  from  the  sun.  It  is 
crowded  with  little  shops  not  bigger  than  your 
china  closet.  And  in  one  of  those  shops  you 
shall  find  Renan's  books  side  by  side  with 
The  Imitation  of  Christ;  in  the  next  shall  be 
Singer's  sewing-machine ;  and  in  the  next  a 
cobbler  making  a  sandal  like  that  worn  by  the 
Romans.  You  step  into  one  of  these  shops  to 
avoid  a  J  hden  with  bales  of  hay  brought 

in  from  the  country  to  feed  the  horse's  who 
dragged  you  from  the  railroad. 

This  is  what  I  mean  when  I  say  every  step  is  a 
romance.  Travel  has  not  spoiled  it,  nor  begun 
to  spoil  it.  The  people  are  as  simple  as  they 
were  in  the  days  of  Columbus. 

I  wanted,  if  I  could,  to  buy  some  old  books 
one  day,  and  was  told  that  there  was  a  certain 
fair  held  every  Thursday  where  I  could  perhaps 


6o  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

pick  up  what  I  needed.  So  I  went  to  this  fair, 
which  is  of  second-hand  articles  wholly,  and  it 
was  precisely  like  the  Arabian  Nights.  The 
streets  in  that  precinct  are  wholly  given  up  to  it 
on  Thursday,  and  no  carriages  are  permitted  on 
that  day.  So  the  dealers  lay  out  their  articles 
on  the  street  itself,  which  is  well  paved,  without 
sidewalks,  in  granite  blocks.  A  path  some  six 
feet  wide  is  left  for  passing,  and,  as  the  street  is 
wider  or  narrower,  the  salesmen  have  more  or 
less  space.  Where  the  streets  are  wide,  the 
crockery-men  establish  themselves ;  so  you  see 
plates,  mugs,  cups,  &c,  all  nominally  second- 
hand, arrayed  on  the  street. 

You  see  readily  how,  if  a  jackass  strays  in  by 
any  accident,  just  one  of  those  tragedies  takes 
place,  with  the  crockery,  that  occur  more  than 
once  in  the  Arabian  Nights.  As  many  of  the 
people  are  Moors,  as  all  are  in  the  costume  of 
people  in  operas,  as  the  articles  sold  are  the 
most  ramshackled  old  bits  that  have  been  left 
since  the  Ark,  you  can  imagine  that  the  whole 
is  sufficiently  oriental. 

We  were  taken  to  see  a  palace  which  has  been 
kept  in  perfect  order  since  the  days  of  the 
Moors,  and  is  now  just  as  it  might  be  if  Haroun 
Alraschid  lived  in  it.  I  really  never  conceived 
anything  so  beautiful.  I  have  tried  to  describe 
the  system  of  inner  court-yards.     We  came  to 


SEVILLE.  6 1 

this  house  through  a  narrow  whitewashed  street, 
which  promised  nothing.  But  the  court-yard, 
or  entrance  to  it,  was  white  marble,  and  was 
screened  at  the  inner  end  by  a  gate. 

The  attendant  admitted  us,  however,  and  here 
was  a  lovely  square  garden  of  oriental  and  trop- 
ical plants,  palms,  bananas,  and  brilliant  flower- 
ing shrubs.  Around  this  the  house  is  built,  a 
corridor  of  exquisite  white  marble  arches  wholly 
surrounding  the  square.  All  these  arches  are 
adorned  with  that  delicate  carving  which  we 
associate  with  the  Alhambra,  and  which  looks 
like  ivory-work.  It  is  finely  cut  in  stucco. 
Each  story  above  has  one  of  these  corridors. 
We  were  not  permitted  to  go  upstairs ;  but  the 
stairway  was  of  elegant  white  marble  also,  rising 
up  to  a  lofty  dome,  carved  and  highly  orna- 
mented. In  another  garden  without  was  the 
invariable  fish-tank,  which  is  the  water  supply  of 
the  whole. 

To  go  back  to  my  analysis  of  the  charm  of 
Seville,  you  are  in  the  midst  of  people  who 
seem,  at  least,  to  know  how  to  enjoy  themselves. 
At  night  the  principal  streets  and  squares  are 
filled  with  men  and  women,  straying  here  and 
there,  absolutely  with  no  purpose  but  to  enjoy 
starlight,  moonlight,  and  open  air.  Enormous 
cafes,  of  a  size  which  would  astonish  Boston  and 
New  York,  even  were  they  devoted  to  whiskey 


62  SEVEN   SPANISH   CITIES. 

or  billiards,  are  filled  with  men  and  women  sip- 
ping lemonade  or  sugared  water,  and  talking 
with  animation,  like  a  great  evening  party,  pro- 
vided for  every  one  at  the  cost  of  the  half-cent 
for  his  sugar. 

I  had  always  held  to  Miss  Ferrier's  bright  rule 
in  travelling,  that  a  visit  should  be  three  days 
long,  —  "  the  rest  day,  the  dressed  day,  and  the 
pressed  day."  I  have  told  hundreds  of  young 
travellers  that  it  is  better  to  spend  three  days  in 
one  place,  than  one  day  each  in  three.  And  cer- 
tainly, in  my  plans,  I  had  no  thought  of  spending 
more  than  three  days  in  Seville.  We  wanted  to 
see  Murillo's  pictures  in  his  home,  and  I  wanted 
to  see  some  papers  in  the  archives.  I  supposed 
three  days  would  be  enough,  and,  as  I  have  said 
in  the  preface  to  these  notes,  I  had  been  ex- 
horted by  all  the  prudent  tribes  not  to  linger  in 
the  south  of  Spain  in  May  or  June.  But  when 
you  are  once  established  in  Seville,  things  im- 
press you  very  differently. 

True  to  the  theory  of  taking  a  Spanish  .hotel, 
if  I  could  find  one,  rather  than  one  which  af- 
fected to  be  French,  I  went  to  the  Europa.  The 
place,  or  a  part  of  it,  was  once  a  convent,  and  at 
the  back  of  the  beautiful  patio  a  magnificent 
staircase  of  the  convent  times  —  excellent  to  sit 
on  in  the  shade  of  the  afternoon  —  takes  you  up 
to  the  second  floor,  where  the  bedrooms  are. 


SEVILLE.  6$ 

All  this  stairway  is  hung  with  sacred  pictures, 
which  may  or  may  not  have  been  there  in  con- 
vent days ;  certainly  they  make  the  place  seem 
very  different  from  a-hotel,  as  we  think  of  one. 
You  can,  if  you  choose,  —  and  you  are  apt  to 
choose,  —  have  your  coffee  or  chocolate  served 
under  the  shade  of  a  banana-tree,  in  the  sound 
of  the  fountain,  at  the  side  of  the  patio. 

Once  installed  in  such  a  place,  dropping  into 
the  habit  of  a  siesta  in  the  hour  which  would  be 
hot  out  of  doors ;  with  palaces,  gardens,  galleries, 
churches,  at  hand,  such  as  your  best  dreams 
never  painted ;  with  excursions  possible  in  any 
direction  of  curious  interest;  with  daily  life  a 
queer  reminder  of  the  Arabian  Nights  literally 
at  every  step,  you  no  longer  think  of  going 
away  in  three  days.  You  only  inquire  why  you 
should  go  away  at  all.  What  are  you  for?  Why 
are  you  in  Spain?  Did.  you  come  to  Spain  to 
enjoy  some  pleasant  weeks?  Well!  what  can 
you  find  more  charming  than  this?  Have  you 
exhausted  it?  With  every  day  you  feel  that  you 
are  only  beginning  to  take  it  in. 

The  local  proverb  says,  "  See  Seville  and  die." 
One  would  not  wish  to  die  merely  because  he 
had  seen  it.  A  better  proverb  would  be,  "  See 
Seville  and  live  there."  There  is  just  this  strong 
infusion  of  Eastern  habit  which  makes  it  so 
attractive  to  us  crude  Westerns:    there  is  a  cli- 


64  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

mate  well   nigh   perfect;    there  is  the   activity, 

agreeable,  after  all,  of  a  business  town  in  full  and 
easy  relations  with  the  rest  of  the  world;  and, 
last  of  all,  Seville  has  an  advantage,  which  many 
of  us,  of  what  I  call  the  literary  class,  appreciate, 
living  is  very,  very  cheap.  I  heard  of  some  in- 
telligent people  living  there  very  much  as  I  live 
at  home,  I  fancy,  whose  full  daily  charge  aver- 
aged forty-two  cents  a  day  for  each  of  them. 
This  was  life  in  a  palace,  where  the  family  kept 
house  comfortably.  They  had  American  tastes, 
and  seemed  to  enjoy  them.  I  tell  this  with  terror, 
lest  I  send  half  unoccupied  America  to  Seville. 
For  I  am  old  enough  to  remember  when  we 
could  live  at  the  same  charge  in  North  Conway 
in  summer.  I  have  sometimes  feared  that  I, 
and  my  friend  who  made  this  discovery,  an- 
nounced it  too  freely  to  an  eager  world. 
..  "  Happy  is  the  country  whose  history  is  un- 
written." If  we  feel  that  in  America,  day  by 
day,  when  one's  newspapers  come  to  us  "  without 
a  word  in  them,"  what  shall  we  say  in  Seville, 
where  the  newspapers  are  so  much  smaller? 
But  they  make  up  in  number.  Spain  is  just  in 
that  first  phase  of  liberty  when  everybody  wants 
to  write  in  a  newspaper,  and  every  one  thinks 
he  can  publish  one.  They  have  very  many 
comic  papers.  Every  considerable  city  seems 
to  have  its  own ;   and  these,  with  their  brilliant 


SEVILLE.  65 

colored  cartoons,  circulate  in  all  the  other  cities. 
They  are  generally  published  weekly ;  but  there 
are  so  many  of  these  papers,  that  with  almost 
every  day  a  new  one  is  exhibited.  Some  of 
them  are  very  funny;  some,  to  a  foreigner,  quite 
unintelligible.  There  is  at  least  one  literary 
journal  here,  and  I  saw  a  good  many  recent 
books  by  Sevillian  authors.  One  of  the  folk-lore 
societies  is  represented  which  have  been  estab- 
lished in  many  parts  of  Europe  for  preserving 
local  traditions  and  a  knowledge  of  local  litera- 
ture. The  centre  of  these  societies  is  in  London. 
Near  the  doorway  of  our  hotel,  among  the  other 
caricatures,  there  hung  one  of  the  Saviour,  which 
would  not  have  been  tolerated  an  hour  at  any 
shop-door  in  Boston.  So  much  for  the  working 
of  the  Inquisition,  in  the  long  run,  for  the  sup- 
pression of  blasphemy  or  heresy. 

Americans  would  be  apt  to  go  to  the  Colum-^ 
bian  Library,  founded  by  the  son  of  Christopher 
Columbus.  A  magnificent  building  enshrines  it, 
and  one  does  not  see  any  collection  more  elegant 
in  the  outward  appurtenance  of  a  library.  But 
you  are  disappointed  if  you  expect  to  find  me- 
morials of  the  discoverer.  They  do  show,  under 
glass,  a  copy  of  Ptolemy,  I  think,  with  notes  by 
him,  and  an  old  map  with  three  caravels  drawn 
near  islands,  which  you  try  to  think  are  the 
three  vessels  of  discovery.  Let  me,  as  I  pass, 
S 


66  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

warn  other  travellers  not  to  expect  to  see  the 
documents  in  the  archives  without  a  permit  from 
Madrid.  I  found  a  gentleman  from  Guatemala 
at  work  there,  and  was  not  surprised  to  find  it 
supposed  that  his  business  and  mine  were  the 
same,  as,  in  a  certain  sense,  they  were. 

The  exterior  view  of  the  cathedral  gives  no 
idea  of  its  grandeur  or  beauty.  As  in  all  the 
Spanish  cathedrals  which  I  saw,  the  choir  is  built 
in  the  middle,  almost  as  a  separate  church. 
And,  as  at  Burgos,  this  hurts  the  vista  of  the 
nave.  But  you  cannot  spoil  so  magnificent  a 
building.  I  do  not  know,  and  do  not  care  to 
look  to  see,  how  long  the  aisles  are  or  how 
high  ;  they  are  long  enough  and  high  enough  to 
create  and  to  preserve  that  sense  of  wonder,  awe, 
and  satisfied  rest  for  which  cathedrals  were  built 
and  stand.  Looking  over  these  notes,  now  far 
away  from  Seville,  I  find  that  the  curiosities 
which  the  eager  guide  showed  there,  as  in  all 
such  places,  do  not  come  back  to  me  as  having 
any  connection  with  the  cathedral  itself.  They 
are  so  many  side  shows,  to  use  a  very  happy 
expression  of  the  vernacular.  They  are  a  nui- 
sance at  the  time ;  but  afterwards  they  do  not 
annoy  you. 

One  p!oes  not  count  among  them  the  admira- 
ble pictures.  Among  these  is  the  Vision  of  St. 
Anthony,  which  is  one  of  the  finest  of  the  Mu- 


SEVILLE.  67 

- 
rillos.  It  was  from  this  painting  that  the  kneel- 
ing figure  of  the  saint  was  cut  a  few  years  since 
and  sent  to  New  York  for  sale.  The  New  York 
police  proved  quick  enough  for  the  occasion,  and 
the  New  York  law  strong  enough.  The  thieves 
were  caught  and  the  picture  restored.  They 
show  you,  in  the  fit  light,  the  seams  which  indi- 
cate the  patch  of  the  restored  canvas. 

Seville  is  now  a  centre  of  literature  and  art, 
and  must  be  a  very  agreeable  home.  It  is  saicP 
that  the  social  circles  are  accomplished  and 
agreeable.  The  museum  is  not  large,  but  very 
rich,  particularly  in  pictures  by  Murillo,  and  here 
we  saw  for  the  first  time  the  work  of  Alonzo 
Cano.  The  art  school  calls  together  quite  a 
large  number  of  young  artists.  It  was  to  the 
enthusiasm  of  some  of  them  that  the  riots  were 
due,  if  indeed  they  deserve  that  name,,  .which 
gave  one  subject  to  the  newspapers  aside  from 
the  eternal  discussion  of  Madrid  politics,  while 
we  were  there.  On  one  of  the  last  days  of  May 
was  celebrated  the  second  centennial  anniversary 
of  the  death  of  Murillo.  In  point  of  fact  he  died 
on  the  3d  of  April,  1682;  but  they  took  some 
festival  in  May,  I  now  forget  what,  for  the  cele- 
bration. Now,  in  honor  of  Murillo's  exquisite 
pictures  of  the  Virgin,  it  seems  that  somebody 
had  called  him  "  The  Painter  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception."     The    dogma  of  the    immaculate 


68  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

conception  —  for  it  has  been  a  dogma  now  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century  —  is,  or  has  been,  the  passion 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  our  time.     Se- 
ville having  been  the  birthplace  of  Murillo,  some 
enthusiastic  priests  thought  this  would  be  a  good 
opportunity  for  a  solemnity  at  once  in  his  honor 
and  that  of  the  Virgin.     They  certainly  gave  fair 
notice  of  what  they  were  going  to  do.     I  saw,  some 
weeks  before,  in  France,  a  public  notice  that  they 
had  invited  some  churches,  even  so  far  off,  to  lend 
their  banners  to  be  used  in  the  procession.     This 
is  not  a  bad  way  to  invoke  general  sympathy. 
As  the  Queen,  if  she  cannot  go  to  a  funeral,  sends 
her  carriage,  so  if  a  church  cannot  send  a  priest  to 
a  procession,  it  can  send  a  banner,  if  it  has  one 
to  send.     But  this  ecclesiastical  view  of  the  occa- 
sion did  not  please  the  art  students,  and  it  would 
seem  that  they  rallied  to  their  side  the  other 
students  of  the  university.     They  said  that  they 
were  as  ready  to  celebrate  Murillo's  birthday  as 
anybody,  but  they  were  not  going  to   have  it 
mixed  up  with  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  or 
its  dogmas.     As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  proces- 
sion appeared  in  the  street,  the  priests,  who  seem 
to  have  made  the  greater  part  of  it,  were  hooted 
and  hustled,  not  to  say  stoned.     And  they,  with 
their  banners,  were  obliged  to  take  rapid  flight, 
and  finally  to  seek  refuge  in  a  church.     I  do  not 
know,  and  I  could  not  find  anybody  who  thought 


SEVILLE.  69 

he  knew,  whether  the  people  at  large  showed 
more  sympathy  with  the  attack  or  the  defence. 
Extreme  clerical  papers  were  very  angry,  and 
extreme  radical  papers  were  very  angry,  each 
from  their  own  point  of  view.  Between  the  ex- 
tremes, most  of  the  journals  were  undertaking  to 
show  that  it  was  a  matter  of  no  great  conse- 
quence, and  I  rather  think  they  were  right.  But 
I  believe  it  is  true  that  the  troops  were  ordered 
out  to  preserve  order.  All  this  happened  a  day 
or  two  before  I  came  to  Seville. 

For  two  or  three  days  after,  however,  every 
morning's  paper  announced  that  the  disturbances 
had  been  renewed,  the  night  before,  by  bands  of 
students  passing  through  the  city,  singing  and 
shouting  and  in  conflict  with  the  police.  Indeed, 
if  you  had  read  the  Madrid  papers,  you  would 
have  thought  we  were  in  a  state  of  siege.  But 
I  tell  this  whole  story  to  illustrate  exaggera- 
tion in  a  country  wild  for  newspapers,  where 
there  is  very  little  news.  It  was  then  May,  and 
the  weather  lovely.  I  was  in  the  streets  and 
squares  every  evening,  in  the  very  streets  where 
these  things  were  said  to  take  place,  and  yet  I 
never  saw  myself  or  heard  any  of  the  incidents 
of  the  affair.  I  said  so  one  day  to  an  intelligent 
man,  who  replied  rather  vehemently,  "  You 
should  have  been  in  the  Plaza  del  Duque  at  nine 
o'clock  last  night."      I  asked  if  he  were  there. 


•JO  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

No,  he  was  not  there,  but  there  was  a  collision 
between  the  students  and  the  troops,  and  a  large 
number  of  students  were  carried  to  the  guard- 
house. Now,  in  fact,  I  was  sitting  with  a  party 
of  ladies  on  a  seat  in  that  Plaza,  from  half-past 
eight  to  quarter-past  nine,  and  we  spent  all  the 
rest  of  the  evening  at  the  theatre  hard  by.  We 
heard  no  noise,  and  saw  no  collision.  It  is  my 
belief  that  there  was  none.  But  there  was  a 
good  deal  of  newspaper  excitement,  and  the  de- 
termination in  each  office  to  make  the  most  of 
whatever  did  occur.  The  bishop  of  the  diocese 
made  a  semi-official  statement  that  the  Murillo 
demonstration  was  none  of  his  business.  It  was 
even  said  that  he  transferred  the  priests  who 
were  implicated  to  other  fields  of  duty,  in  such 
a  way  that  it  was  supposed  that  the  transfer 
was  a  reprimand.  On  the  other  hand,  when,  a 
few  weeks  after,  the  Commencement  Day,  or 
whatever  corresponds  to  it,  came  round,  the 
government  refused  to  give  degrees  to  the  stu- 
dents who  were  engaged  in  the  riot.  Thus  a 
certain  Gallio-like  indifference  was  maintained 
by  the  authorities  in  regard  to  the  battle  itself. 
It  is  not  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  have 
been  in  the  midst  of  a  conflict  which  attracted 
much  more  attention  at  a  distance  than  it  gained 
from  the  lookers-on. 


CHAPTER  V. 

PALOS   AND    COLUMBUS. 

MOST  American  school-boys  and  school-girls 
know  that  Columbus  sailed  from  "  Palos  in 
Spain  "  to  discover  America.  Some  of  them 
know  that  he  sailed  on  the  3d  of  August,  1492. 

When  they  grow  to  be  men  and  women,  if 
they  look  for  Palos  on  a  good  enough  map 
they  will  not  find  it.  It  will  be  on  some  purely 
American-manufacture  maps.  But  it  will  not 
be  on  the  average  map.  I  was  in  the  cabinet  of 
one  of  the  first  geographers  in  the  world,  and  he 
took  down  an  excellent  map  of  Spain,  on  a  large 
scale,  authenticated  by  an  official  board,  and 
there  was  no  Palos  there. 

I  had  determined  to  see  Palos.  And  Seville 
is  the  point  of  departure  for  this  excursion. 
On  a  lovely  May  day  we  started,  —  my  daughter 
and  I.  There  is  a  railway,  sufficiently  good, 
built  chiefly  or  wholly  by  a  mining  company, 
which  comes  from  the  valley  of  the  Guadal- 
quivir to  that  of  the  Tinto,  and  takes  you  there. 
It  is  a  pleasant  ride  of  sixty-five  miles  or  there- 
abouts. 


72  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

The  ride  seems  tropical  to  us  who  have  never 
been  in  the  tropics.  Orange-trees,  fig-trees, 
olive-trees,  and  vineyards  just  pushing  out 
their  fresh  green  leaves,  fill  the  fertile  grounds 
of  these  valleys.  And  how  hard  the  people 
do  work !  I  have  never  seen  anywhere  a  set 
of  farmers  who  seemed  to  stick  so  to  their 
business. 

We  fell  into  talk  with  a  courteous  Spanish 
gentleman,  who  was  most  eager  to  explain  what 
we  did  not  understand. 

The  western  sun,  low  in  the  horizon,  is  stream- 
ing through  the  windows  of  the  carriage.  Our 
friend  is  on  the  eastern  side ;  he  is  looking  watch- 
fully across  the  marshes  and  the  river ;  and  so, 
as  some  mound  of  sand  is  passed  by  the  train 
and  opens  a  full  view  to  the  other  side  of  the 
wide  estuary,  he  raises  his  hand,  points  across 
the  marshes  and  says,  "  Palo  !  " 

We  were  all  silent  for  a  moment.  I  think  he 
knew  something  of  my  feeling.  And  I  —  I 
found  I  cared  for  Palos  more  than  I  had  sup- 
posed possible.  I  had  crossed  Spain  with  the 
intention  of  seeing  the  place.  But  I  had  not  at 
any  time  pictured  to  myself  the  gulf  between 
1492  and  1882;  nor  even  asked  myself  to  im- 
agine Columbus  and  Martin  Pinzon  at  work  on 
the  equipment  of  the  ships.  Of  a  sudden  all 
the   features   of  the    contrast   presented    them- 


PALOS  AND   COLUMBUS.  73 

selves.  Enough,  perhaps,  that,  as  we  dashed 
on  in  the  comfort  of  the  railway  train,  we  were 
looking  across  the  desolate  marshes  to  the  for- 
saken village,  where  hardly  a  few  white  houses 
could  be  made  out,  and  told  ourselves  that  from 
the  enterprise  and  courage  of  that  place  the 
discovery  of  America  became  possible. 

The  seaport  of  Palos  in  the  time  of  Columbus 
was  a  place  so  important,  that  the  crew  and 
vessels  of  the  first  expedition  were  all  gathered 
there,  in  face  of  the  difficulties  which  the  super- 
stition of  the  time  and  the  terms  of  the  voyage 
presented. 

I  do  not  suppose  it  to  have  been  a  seaport 
of  the  first  class,  but  it  was  a  considerable  and 
active  town.  It  was  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
estuary  of  the  Tinto  River,  a  considerable 
stream,  known  to  navigators  as  far  back  as  the 
first  history  of  navigation.  It  takes  its  name 
Tinto  from  the  color  which  it  brings  from  the 
copper  and  iron  mines  above,  which  are  the 
very  mines  which  gave  to  Spain  its  interest  for 
Phoenician  navigators.  In  nearly  four  centuries 
since  Columbus's  time  the  current  of  the  river 
has  been  depositing  silt  in  what  was  then  the 
port  of  Palos,  and  this  port  is  now  entirely  filled 
up.  With  the  destruction  of  the  harbor  the 
town  has  gone  to  ruin.  The  few  white  specks 
which  my  Spanish  friend  pointed  out  to  me,  in 


74  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

the  light  of  the  evening  sun,  marked  the  place 
of  the  few  houses  in  which  a  hundred  or  two 
poor  people  are  living,  where  were  once  the 
dock-yards  and  warehouses  of  the  active  town. 
The  rival  town,  Huelva,  which  was,  even  in 
Columbus's  time,  a  place  of  considerable  im- 
portance, takes  all  the  commerce  of  the  estuary. 
I  think  not  even  a  fishing-boat  sails  from  Palos 
itself. 

Huelva  is  a  port  where  large  steamers  can  lie 
at  the  pier,  and  is  now  a  place  of  active  and 
apparently  successful  trade. 

An  English  company,  which  is  developing 
the  mines,  has  built  a  good  system  of  railroads 
which  unite  Huelva  with  its  mining  establish- 
ments, as  it  built  this  we  had  travelled  upon 
from  Seville. 

There  is  a  new  hotel  at  Huelva,  where  we 
were  comfortably  accommodated.  I  was  inter- 
ested to  see  that  all  the  furniture,  which  was 
new,  was  of  American  manufacture,  coming  very 
likely  from  Worcester  County,  Massachusetts. 
Thus  far,  at  least,  we  have  been  able  to  pay  our 
debt  to  Columbus  and  to  Palos. 

I  was  wakened  the  next  morning,  before  five 
o'clock,  to  hear  the  singing  of  birds  in  a  lofty 
orange-tree  in  the  front  of  my  window,  that  we 
might  embark  at  once  on  our  visit  to  the  con- 
vent of  Rabida,  and,  if  possible,  to  the  ruins  of 


PA  LOS  AND   COLUMBUS.  75 

Palos.  A  fine  half-decked  boat,  such  as  we 
might  have  hired  in  Marblehcad  for  a  like  pur- 
pose, with  a  skipper  who  looked  precisely  like 
his  Marblehcad  congener,  but  with  the  lateen 
sail  which  is  so  curiously  characteristic  of  South- 
ern Europe,  was  ready  for  our  little  voyage. 
We  passed  heavy  steamers  which  suggested 
little  enough  of  Columbus,  but  there  were  fine- 
looking  fishing-boats  which  suggested  the  plucky 
little  Nina  of  his  voyage;  and  their  seamen  arc 
probably  dressed  to-day  much  as  the  men  who 
landed  with  him  at  San  Salvador. 

A  run  of  an  hour  brought  us  to  the  fine  head- 
land on  which  the  convent  of  Rabida,  or  Sta. 
Maria  de  Rabida,  stands,  scarcely  changed,  if 
changed  at  all,  from  the  aspect  it  bore  on  the 
day  when  Columbus  "  asked  of  the  porter  a 
little  bread  and  water  for  his  child." 1  Lord 
Houghton,  following  Freiligrath,  has  sung  to  us 

how 

"The  palm-tre,e  dreameth  of  the  pine, 
The  pine-tree  of  the  palm  ;  " 

and  in  his  delicate  imaginings  the  dream  is  of 
two  continents,  ocean-parted,  each  of  whom 
longs  for  the  other.  Strange  enough,  as  one 
pushes  along  the  steep  ascent  from  the  landing 
at  Rabida  up  the  high  bluff  on  which  the  con- 

1  This  is  Mr.  Everett's  language,  in  a  speech  which  old 
school-boys  will  remember. 


76  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

vent  stands,  the  palm-tree  and  the  pine  grow 
together,  as  if  in  token  of  the  dream  of  the  great 
discoverer  who  was  to  unite  the  continents. 

In  this  convent  Columbus  made  his  home 
while  the  expedition  was  fitting  out;  Palos  hard 
by,  and  quite  accessible.  Hither  the  Pinzons 
and  the  learned  physician,  Garcia  Fernandez, 
were  summoned  by  the  good  friar  Marchena, 
Columbus's  steady  friend,  for  the  great  consul- 
tations from  which  the  discovery  grew. 

The  convent  is  a  large  rambling  building,  of 
Moorish  lines  and  aspect,  built  around  several 
patios,  or  gardens.  Hardly  any  windows  open 
through  the  outer  walls ;  but  the  life  of  the 
building  engages  itself  in  and  around  the  patios 
within.  Here  cloisters,  made  by  columns  with 
arches,  surround  the  pretty  enclosures,  and  in 
these  one  dines,  writes,  takes  his  siesta,  or  does 
nothing. 

Columbus's  room,  as  a  fine  chamber  upstairs 
is  called,  has  a  large  table  in  the  middle,  on 
which  is  Columbus's  inkstand.  All  around  the 
room  there  now  hang  pictures :  some  of  him, 
one  of  Isabella,  one  of  the  good  old  friar,  and 
some  by  modern  painters  of  different  scenes  in 
the  first  great  voyage  and  of  his  experiences 
after  his  return. 

The  old  chapel  of  the  convent  is  below.  It 
is   neat  and  pretty,  and  worship   could  be  re- 


PALOS  AND   COLUMBUS.  77 

newed  there  at  any  time.  The  Duke  of  Mont- 
pensier,  who  married  a  sister  of  Isabella  II. 
the  late  Queen  of  Spain,  arranged  to  have  it  all 
put  in  proper  order.  The  nation  maintains  the 
place,  and  a  charming  family  of  Spaniards, 
grandfather,  grandmother,  son,  daughter,  and 
three  nice  boys,  Christopher,  Immanuel,  and 
Joseph,  keep  it  in  order. 

The  Spanish  historians  now  think  that  Colum- 
bus came  to  Rabida  with  the  very  purpose  of 
interesting  Marchena,  the  good  friar.  Marchena 
was  interested,  and  recommended  him  to  the 
Bishop  of  Talavera.  But,  alas  !  he  thought  Co- 
lumbus was  a  madman.  King  and  queen  alike 
were  occupied  in  fighting  the  Moors.  The 
council  of  wise  men  at  Salamanca,  to  whom 
Columbus's  plans  were  referred,  decided  un- 
favorably. Columbus  did  receive  some  favor- 
able messages  from  France.  Wholly  discouraged 
in  Spain,  six  years  after  his  first  visit  here  he 
came  again,  —  from  Cordoba  this  time,  where 
were  the  relations  of  his  wife  and  of  his  son  Diego. 
He  came  to  say  that,  as  Spain  had  given  him  up, 
he  should  give  Spain  up,  and  see  if  the  King  of 
France  would  not  fit  out  the  expedition. 

The  good  friar  Marchena  was  dismayed  at 
this.  He  could  not  bear  to  have  the  glory  lost 
to  Spain.  He  sent  for  Garcia  Fernandez,  a 
doctor  in  Palos,  who  had  been  interested  when 


78  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

Columbus  was  here  before.  He  sent  for  Pinzon, 
a  rich  merchant  of  Palos.  They  all  talked  it 
over  again,  and  the  friar  wrote  to  the  Queen  this 
time,  not  to  any  bishop.  The  Queen  sent  back 
word  that  Columbus  was  to  come  himself  and 
explain  his  plan;  and  the  sadness  of  the  con- 
vent was  changed  to  joy. 

Columbus's  mule  was  saddled  at  once.  He 
started  that  night  for  Santa  Fe,  and  had  an  au- 
dience from  Isabella.  She  heard  and  believed. 
She  promised  her  support,  and  Columbus  wrote 
this  letter  to  the  brother  here  at  the  convent:  — 

"  Our  Lord  God  has  heard  the  prayers  of  his 
servants.  The  wise  and  virtuous  Isabel,  touched 
by  the  grace  of  Heaven,  has  kindly  listened  to 
this  poor  man's  words.  All  has  turned  out  well. 
I  have  read  to  them  our  plan ;  it  has  been  ac- 
cepted, and  I  have  been  called  to  the  court  to 
state  the  proper  means  for  carrying  out  the  de- 
signs of  Providence.  My  courage  swims  in  a 
sea  of  consolation,  and  my  spirit  rises  in  praise 
to  God.  Come  as  soon  as  you  can ;  the  Queen 
looks  for  you,  and  I  much  more  than  she.  I 
commend  myself  to  the  prayers  of  my  dear  sons, 
and  to  you. 

"  The  grace  of  God  be  with  you,  and  may  our 
Lady  of  Rabida  bless  you." 

After  a  visit  full  of  interest  to  Rabida,  we  re- 
turned to  our  boat,  and  I  directed  my  seamen  to 


PA  LOS  AND   COLUMBUS.  79 

take  me  to  some  landing  whence  I  could  go  into 
the  very  streets  of  Palos,  or  what  was  left  of  it. 
To  my  surprise  I  was  told  that  this  was  impossi- 
ble. No  such  landing  remains,  even  for  a  fish- 
ing-boat of  five  tons.  If  the  senor  wished,  it 
would  be  necessary  for  the  boat  to  come  to  an- 
chor, and  the  senor  must  be  carried  on  the  back 
of  the  skipper  for  three-quarters  of  a  mile  or 
more,  over  the  flat  under  water,  formed  where 
proud  ships  once  rode.  The  senor  declined  this 
proposal,  and  bade  the  boatman  take  him  to  the 
bar  of  Saltes,  the  little  island  in  front  of  Palos 
and  Huelva,  where  Columbus's  vessels  lay,  and 
from  which  he  sailed  at  eight  o'clock  on  the 
morning  of  Friday,  August  3,  1492. 

The  run  from  Rabida,  tacking  back  and  forth 
with  a  brisk  breeze,  was  perhaps  an  hour,  or  a 
little  more.  The  island,  which  was  the  last  of 
Europe  for  the  great  navigator,  can  be  scarcely 
changed.  It  is  a  narrow  bar  high  enough  to 
break  the  force  of  the  south  and  southwest 
winds  as  they  sweep  in  from  the  Atlantic,  and 
thus  make  the  admirable  harbor  of  Huelva. 

We  discharged  the  grateful  duty  of  collecting 
some  memorials  of  a  place  so  interesting,  and 
then,  by  a  rapid  run  before  the  wind,  returned  to 
the  pier  at  Huelva,  which  is  some  six  miles  up 
the  river. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

XERES,  CADIZ,  AND  MALAGA. 

THERE  is  easy  steam  navigation  from  Seville 
to  Cadiz,  and,  according  to  all  accounts,  nothing 
is  pleasanter  than  the  voyage  by  steamboat 
down  the  river.  One  of  Amicis's  most  amusing 
chapters  describes  this  voyage,  and  we  tried  to 
take  it.  All  which  I  say  for  the  benefit  of  other 
travellers,  for  the  boats  are  not  advertised ;  in- 
deed, you  must  not,  anywhere  in  Spain,  rely  upon 
advertising  as  you  would  in  America.  As  it 
happened,  there  was  no  boat  that  fitted  with  our 
plans,  and  we  were  obliged  to  take  the  rail.  The 
ride  is  of  six  or  seven  hours,  which  we  took  in 
the  afternoon  and  evening.  You  pass  through 
a  highly  cultivated  valley  with  such  attractions 
as  I  have  tried  to  describe  in  speaking  of  my 
journey  to  Huelva. 

One  of  the  principal  stopping-places  is  Xeres, 
of  which  I  suppose  the  geographers  would  say 
that  it  is  famous  for  sherry  and  the  Jaleo  de 
Xeres.     For  me,  I  am  no  connoisseur  in  sherry, 


XERES,   CADIZ,  AND  MALAGA.  8 1 

but  I  am  old  enough  to  remember  Fanny  Elssler 
and  the  Jaleo  de  Xeres. 

"  How  sweet  when  by  moonlight  the  sunbeams  retire, 
When  with  bright  burnished  silver  the  waves  seem  on  fire; 
As  the  shadows  of  evening  begin  to  advance, 
How  sweet  't  is  to  join  in  the  song  and  the  dance  ! 
Not  the  light-footed  naiads  that  trip  o'er  the  sea 
Are  lighter,  swifter,  gayer  than  we." 

All  such  scraps  of  Spanish  song  came  up  to- 
gether from  the  surges  of  old  memories  as  we 
saw  the  sun  go  down  upon  the  sparkling  Guadal- 
quivir, and  knew  that  we  need  only  stop  over  a 
train  to  see  the  Jaleo  danced  in  Xeres  itself. 
What  we  should  call  the  river-bottom  was  cov- 
ered with  rows  of  young  vines,  perhaps  four  feet 
high,  in  the  fresh  greenness  of  leaves  which  had 
attained  half  their  size.  It  was  like  riding  in  the 
train  of  the  Connecticut  River  Railroad  through 
a  growth  of  young  broom-corn.  This  may  be  a 
good  place  to  say  that  I  was  told  by  a  connois- 
seur, in  whose  skill  I  have  full  confidence,  that 
on  the  spot  no  man  can  give  more  than  fifty 
cents  a  bottle  for  the  best  possible  pure  sherry. 
Whatever  we  choose  to  give  in  addition  is  what 
we  pay  for  additions, —  whether  sugar,  brandy,  or 
other  coloring  matter. 

As  for  coloring  matter,  there  is  a  good  deal 
of  it ;  for  the  sherry  served  at  the  table  at  Cadiz 
and  Malaga  is  a  very  light-colored  wine.  If  the 
6 


82  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

length  of  the  passage  to  America  £ver  made  it 
necessary  to  adulterate  pure  wine,  there  can 
hardly  be  any  such  necessity  now,  when  the  pas- 
sage from  Cadiz  to  New  York  is  made  in  twelve 
days.  But  a  taste  is  a  taste  ;  and  if  connoisseurs 
are  used  to  a  mixture  of  burned  sugar,  brandy, 
Xeres  wine,  and  water,  I  suppose  they  will  prefer 
it.  So  I  once  found  that  the  average  attendant 
on  a  Boston  eating-house  preferred  to  pure  milk 
a  mixture  of  milk,  water,  burned  sugar,  and  salt. 
The  keeper  of  the  eating-house  likes  it  better, 
too ;  for  such  a  mixture,  if  there  be  salt  enough, 
can  be  kept  for  six  days. 

Nobody  has  ever  taken  the  trouble  to  tell  me 
that  Xeres  is  the  modern  spelling  of  Asta  regia, 
which  was  the  name  of  the  town  in  the  Roman 
geographies. 

Does  the  reader  remember 

"He  stormed  the  gates  of  Cadiz, 
And  this  that  gallant  Spaniard  did 
For  me  and  for  the  ladies." 

I  always  had  an  inward  fear  that  whoever  it 
was  stormed  those  gates  because  "  Cadiz " 
rhymes  so  well  with  "  ladies,"  and  that  if  it 
had  been  in  another  language  he  might  have 
been  of  another  country,  say  a  Frenchman  or 
an  Italian,  to  fit  the  rhyme.  But  as  you  pass  a 
long  salt-marsh,  not  unlike  the  Dorchester  flats, 
and  sweep  by  long  bastions  of  stone-work,  you 


XERES,   CADIZ,   AND  MALAGA.  83 

feci  that  somebody,  at  some '  time,  has  had  a 
good  deal  to  do  in  storming  of  the  gates  of  Ca- 
diz. And  in  Irving's  "Conquest  of  Granada" 
there  are  places  enough  where  this  gallant  Span- 
iard can  be  fitted  in.  According  to  Pliny,  the 
place  was  an  island  in  his  day,  and  now  this  salt- 
marsh  parts  it  from  the  upland.  Our  stay  in 
Cadiz  was  of  the  shortest.  We  were  to  leave  at 
six  the  morning  after  we  arrived,  and  we  were 
not  at  our  hotel  much  before  eleven  o'clock. 

In  the  morning  we  breakfasted  at  five,  and 
then,  in  a  great  boat,  with  bag  and  baggage, 
were  rowed  out  to  the  steamer, —  a  good  sea-boat 
of  perhaps  four  hundred  tons.     At  six  we  sailed. 

I  wrote  from  Malaga  the  next  morning  this 
account  of  the  voyage :  — 

"Malaga,  May  30. 

"  It  is  now  six  o'clock,  and  this  pretty  city  of 
Malaga  is  rousing  itself  to  its  duties.  We  are  no 
longer  in  the  East.  This  place  might  be  Norfolk 
or  Savannah,  but  that  four  thousand  years  have 
finished  it  and  given  to  it  elegancies  and  pretti- 
nesses  to  those  cities  unknown.  I  am  on  the 
balcony  of  a  palace,  and  my  room  is  palatial. 
I  do  not  remember  that  in  the  much-praised 
American  hotel  I  ever  found,  at  six  in  the 
morning,  fresh  carnations  on  the  dressing-table 
of  my  chamber.  But  I  am  afraid  this  is  excep- 
tional, for  the  senora  who  takes  care  of  the  camas 


84  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

(no  gallantry  will  pretend  that  she  is  a  seiiorita) 
herself  laughed  as  she  called  attention  to  them, 
as  if  it  were  by  some  happy  accident  that  they 
were  there. 

"  If  my  geography  were  shaky  in  any  partic- 
ular, it  was  as  to  the  difference  between  Cadiz 
and  Malaga.  This  I  knew,  that  from  Malaga 
came  raisins,  while  Pnever  heard  of  Cadiz  raisins. 
Also  I  went  to  school  with  a  boy  from  Malaga, 
and  never  went  to  school  with  any  boy  from  Ca- 
diz. But  these  doubts  are  now  forever  solved 
in  my  mind  (and  I  hope  will  be,  for  this  reader). 
Cadiz  is  outside  the  pillars  of  Hercules  as  far  as 
Malaga  is  inside ;  so  that  our  pretty  coasting 
voyage  of  yesterday,  in  an  admirable  steamer, 
brought  us  through  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar. 

"  I  had  my  first  look  of  Africa,  and  we  spent 
four  hours  at  anchor  at  Algeciras,  in  full  sight  of 
the  great  fortress  itself. 

"  I  could  have  gone  across  and  landed.  But  I 
thought  I  should  dilate  with  the  right  emotions 
if  I  only  beheld  it  from  afar.  Indeed,  it  is  diffi- 
cult not  to  dilate,  and  that  with  many  emotions, 
on  this  voyage.  The  African  coast  is  often  bold. 
We  saw  it  under  great  advantages  of  mist  and 
cloud  on  the  mountains,  quite  symbolizing  the 
mysterious  place  of  Africa  in  the  trinity  of  the 
Eastern  continents.  Gibraltar  is  simply  magnifi- 
cent.    I  have  ruined  my  pocket  sketch-book  by 


XERES,    CADIZ,  AND  MALAGA.  85 

the  number  of  outlines  which  I  have  dashed  in 
at  various  points  of  view.  The  ladies  worked 
with  enthusiasm  from  the  deck  of  the  steamer 
after  she  came  to  anchor.  The  sea  was  perfectly 
smooth.  You  know  how  fond  I  am  of  steam- 
boat travelling,  and  by  this  ddtour  we  enabled 
ourselves  to  travel  by  day  instead  of  night. 

"  Algcciras,  where  I  landed,  is  a  town  more 
Moorish  in  population,  I  suppose,  than  any  town 
I  have  seen.  I  saw  some  very  handsome  faces 
among  the  boys.  It  seems  very  funny  to  see 
these  picturesque  boys,  perhaps  with  a  red  sash 
round  the  waist,  coming  home  from  school  with 
a  cracked  slate  and  what  might  be  a  worn-out 
Emerson's  Arithmetic  in  a  strap  over  the  shoul- 
der, just  as  he  might  do  in  Dartmouth  or  Dud- 
ley Street.  One  of  them  had  thrown  another's 
cap  into  a  tree  on  \Wz  plaza,  just  as  he  might  do 
in  Blackstone  Square.  The  boy  had  coaxed  a 
friend  to  lift  him,  while  with  a  long  stick  he  tried 
to  shake  it  from  the  tree.  The  other  boy  was 
neither  tall  enough  nor  strong  enough,  and  they, 
could  not  reach  it;  so  I  offered.  Boy  number 
one  was  afraid  of  the  Frances e  ;  but  another  hand- 
some boy  volunteered  to  try  the  great  adven- 
ture, and  I  lifted  him  in  triumph,  so  that  he 
'  regained  the  felt,  and  felt  what  he  regained.' 

"  They  were  making  preparations  in  their  pretty 
public  garden  for  a  great  fair  which  they  are  to 


86  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

have  next  week,  in  which  two  bull-fights,  among 
other  things,  are  provided.  I  walked  in  the 
Paseo,  and  had  the  luck  to  hear  my  first  nightin- 
gale. It  is  rather  difficult  to  dilate  with  the  right 
emotions  for  the  nightingale.  The  song  is  a 
good  honest  song,  animated  enough,  rather 
plucky.  '  Jug,  jug,  jug,'  expresses  it  well 
enough.  I  am  almost  afraid  I  should  not  have 
noticed  it,  unless,  indeed,  as  a  sort  of  contralto 
among  the  sopranos  of  the  other  birds.  We  re- 
freshed ourselves  with  lemonade  and  other  light 
drinks  (sugar  and  water  being  the  most  popu- 
lar), gathered  some  shells  on  the  beach,  and  went 
back  to  the  ship  to  dinner.  We  weighed  anchor 
again  at  six,  and  by  sunset  passed  the  rock  of 
Gibraltar,  as  above,  with  the  most  lurid  effects 
of  red  light  behind  the  bold  black  of  the  head- 
land. It  is  virtually  an  island,  like  a  gigantic 
Nahant,  connected  by  a  spit  of  sand  only  with 
the  main,  somewhat  as  Cadiz  is. 

"  They  say  that  in  the  midst  of  the  straits  is  a 
reef,  with  very  deep  surroundings,  on  all  sides. 
Berini,  an  intelligent  valet  de  place  whom  I 
brought  round  with  me  from  Seville,  asked  me 
if  it  might  not  be  that,  in  the  days  of  the  an- 
cients, on  this  reef  there  were  veritably  an- 
other pillar  of  Hercules.  He  is  not  satisfied 
with  the  Abyla  of  the  African  coast  of  to-day. 
Also  he,  who  is  a  Gibraltar  boy  by  birth,  says 


XERES,   CADIZ,  AND  MALAGA.  87 

that  the  cave  of  St.  Michael's  there  has  a  myste- 
rious passage  disappearing  no  one  knows  where. 
1  May  not  this  have  been  a  submarine  tunnel 
through  which  the  monkeys  —  the  only  monkeys 
in  Europe — came  from  Africa  to  the  rock  of 
Gibraltar?'  This  suggests  weird  considerations 
worthy  of  Sindbad.  The  present  number  of 
monkeys  on  the  rock  of  Gibraltar  is  about  thir- 
ty-five. The  English  government  cares  for  them 
more  assiduously  than  for  Spanish  refugees. 
The  number  seen  by  the  sentries  is  reported 
daily  by  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  outposts. 

"  We  had  a  lovely  moonlight  on  the  sea ;  but 
one  cannot  enjoy  even  moonlight  forever,  and 
at  8.30  we  went  to  bed.  In  my  dreams,  all  night 
I  have  been  officiating  with  untold  difficulties  in 
certain  obsequies  in  honor  of  Mr.  Emerson,  and 
certain  others  in  Greece  in  memory  of  Socrates. 
At  12.30  we  arrived  here,  but  have  only  just  now 
landed  and  passed  the  custom-house ;  it  is  the 
fourth  time  that  these  trunks  have  been  exam- 
ined in  Spain  since  we  passed  the  Spanish  fron- 
tier. We  are  now  awaiting  our  coffee,  breakfast 
No.  1." 

The  ancients  had  no  coffee ;  whether  they  ate 
anything  when  they  got  out  of  bed  I  do  not 
know.  But  all  boys  arc  rather  ground  because 
they  are  taught  to  translate  prandium,  breakfast, 


88  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

and  ccena,  supper,  leaving  no  space  for  dinner, 
and  no  word  for  it.  But  I  am  tempted  to  think 
they  had  the  customs  these  people  have  now. 
The  two  meals  are,  one  at  ten  or  eleven,  some- 
times later,  the  other  at  five  or  six.  also  some- 
times late,  as  late  as  nine,  of  which  the  first 
is  called  almuerzo  or  dejeuner,  and  the  second 
comida  or  diner.  They  resemble  each  other 
almost  precisely,  much  more  than  the  Eng- 
lish lunch  and  dinner  do.  You  have  five  or  six 
courses  at  both,  warm  meats,  vegetables,  wine  if 
you  choose,  and,  in  short,  I  know  no  scientific 
distinction.  These  were,  according  to  me,  the 
prandium  and  cccna  of  the  ancients.  I  believe 
they  did  not  have  prandium  till  twelve  ;  no  mere 
do  the  French  have  their  dejeuner  till  twelve. 

I  learned  in  France  an  old  proverb,  originating 
with  the  Church,  that  liquids  do  not  break  fast, 
and  they  got  a  formal  decree  that  coffee  did  not 
break  fast.  Accordingly  a  priest  may  take  cof- 
fee before  he  administers  the  Mass.  Alas,  too 
many  take  wine !  I  think  it  possible  that  the 
universal  habit  of  early  coffee  in  these  parts  may 
have  come  from  the  ecclesiastical  influence. 


FROM    MALAGA   TO    GRANADA. 

Washington  Irving's   charming  book  on  the 
Conquest  of  Granada  would  be  the  true  guide- 


XERES,    CADIZ,  AND  MALAGA.        89 

book  for  the  journey  from  Malaga  to  Granada, 
which  the  reader  is  now  to  take  with  us.  It  is 
one  of  those  journeys  which  such  a  party  as 
ours  would  gladly  take  on  horseback,  and  I 
fancy  that,  at  another  season  of  the  year,  that 
would  be  a  good  way  to  do  it.  But  I  would  not 
undertake  this  with  ladies,  at  the  beginning  of 
June  ;  and,  as  the  reader  will  see,  we  were 
obliged,  all  through  our  Spanish  tour,  to  save 
time  where  we  could. 

Whoever  will  run  through  Irving's  book  will 
read  of  the  latest  bit  of  genuine  chivalry  that  is 
left  in  history.  If  anybody  cares  for  the  truth, 
and  some  people  do,  here  is  a  truer  picture 
of  what  chivalry  was  and  is  than  is  in  the  Ama- 
dis  of  Gaul  or  Esplandian.  And  I  should  like 
to  say,  in  passing,  to  any  young  friend  of  mine 
interested  at  once  in  literature  and  in  the  truth, 
that  I  think  none  of  the  writers  on  chivalry 
have,  as  yet,  dissected  out  the  lies  of  the  ro- 
mancers from  the  truth  of  history.  I  think  it 
would  be  a  nice  literary  enterprise  for  some 
young  fellow  to  do  that  thing.  Let  somebody 
tell  us  where  and  when  "  the  knight-errant "  of 
romance  really  existed  in  the  world ;  and  let 
him  tell  us  how  much  this  six-footed  tramp  was 
respected  or  honored  by  the  people  of  his  own 
time.  And,  to  come  back  to  Granada,  anybody 
who  wants  to  understand  the  Spanish  conquests 


90  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

in  Mexico  and  Peru,  and  to  know  how  there 
came  to  be  in  the  world  such  men  as  the  Spanish 
conquerors,  needs  to  acquaint  himself  well  with 
this  history  of  desperate  fight,  so  well  described 
by  Irving.  It  was  really  the  last  appearance  of 
plate  armor  to  any  purpose  in  Europe.  In 
America,  as  against  arrows,  clubs,  and  stones, 
plate  armor  held  its  own  for  half  a  century 
more. 

We  took  a  train  at  one  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon at  Malaga  to  run  nearly  north.  That  is 
the  general  direction  of  the  road.  But  we  have 
to  pass  the  Sierra,  and  this  we  do  by  the  most 
wonderful  series  of  zigzags  and  tunnels,  cling- 
ing to  the  edges  of  mountain  gorges,  and  creat- 
ing a  road  where  a  goat  might  be  glad  to  find 
his  way.  All  this  is  the  scene  of  that  running 
battle,  which  lasted  nearly  a  week,  which  Irving 
describes  so  picturesquely,  where  the  knights  of 
Antiquera  set  out  to  take  Malaga  by  surprise, 
and  were  themselves  surprised  in  these  very 
passes  by  El  Zagal  and  the  Moorish  cavaliers. 
These  men  understood  the  country  better  and 
were  better  dressed  for  their  business  than  the 
Spaniards. 

Indeed,  it  seems  like  the  difficult  creeping 
which  one  sometimes  experiences  in  a  dream, 
when  one  thinks  of  those  heavy-mailed  Spanish 
knights,  after  they  had  lost  their  horses,  crawl- 


XERES,   CADIZ,   AND  MALAGA.  9 1 

ing,  like  lobsters,  up  and  down  the  rocks  of 
these  ravines.  On  the  other  hand,  you  are  sur- 
prised, as  always,  when  you  find  how  many  of 
them  came  out  of  the  enterprise  alive.  If  they 
could  keep  their  plate  armor  on  their  backs,  it 
seems  to  have  served  a  certain  purpose. 

A  few  hours  only  of  this  railway  riding  bring 
you  out  at  a  sort  of  Ayer  Junction,  high  up  in 
the  hills,  of  which  one  ought  to  say,  in  passing, 
that  it  is  a  much  more  picturesque  place  and  has 
a  much  better  fouda  than  ever  Ayer  Junction 
had.  At  this  place,  the  name  of  which  is  Loja, 
I  had  my  first  experience  of  their  gracious  way 
of  collecting  your  scot  for  dinner.  Grave-look- 
ing men  in  black  came  round  with  plates  which 
looked  like  silver,  which  they  passed  solemnly 
over  your  left  shoulder.  I  had  seen  some  women 
about  in  the  dress  of  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  as 
these  contribution  plates  went  down  the  side  of 
the  table  opposite  me,  I  had  no  thought  but 
that  this  was  a  collection  made  for  the  benefit 
of  some  hospital.  In  my  own  secret  mind  I 
praised  the  liberality  of  the  travellers  for  giving 
as  much  as  they  did,  always  three  or  four  francs, 
and  this,  as  I  observed,  with  a  certain  regularity. 
But  it  was  not  till  the  very  moment  before  the 
man,  whom  I  thought  a  sub-priest,  came  to  me, 
that  I  perceived  that  it  was  thus  that  we  were 
paying  for  our  dinners,  and  that  the  poor  who 


92  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

were  befriended  were  the  wayfarers,  of  whom 
we  were  four. 

Leaving  Loja,  we  took  another  train,  this  time 
eastward,  with  the  higher  mountains  of  the 
Sierra  now  to  the  south  of  us.  We  were  thus 
again  on  the  line  of  rail  by  which  we  might 
have  come  more  directly  from  Seville,  but  for 
our  detour  by  sea  to  see  Africa  and  the  rock  of 
Gibraltar. 

Thus,  through  a  lovely  afternoon,  we  followed 
up  that  wonderful  valley  which  is  called  the 
Vega,  the  spoil  of  which  was  the  prize  of  the 
fourteen  years  of  battle  which  preceded  the  fall 
of  Granada.  Ronda,  Alhama  ("woe  is  me,  Al- 
hama!"),  Lucena,  and  Lopera,  I  think,  Za- 
hara,  Sante  Fe,  and  other  cities,  too  many  for 
me  to  name,  are  in  sight  one  side  or  the  other 
as  the  train  winds  along  on  the  edge  of  the 
valley  in  the  latter  hours,  constantly  ascending. 
For  us  there  was  the  glory  of  a  June  sunset 
behind  the  spurs  of  the  Sierra,  which  we  had 
left  at  Loja.  Then  a  long  twilight,  as  the  train 
still  sped  on  through  what  has  been  for  a  thou- 
sand years  perhaps  the  most  fertile  valley  in  the 
world.  At  last,  all  the  wishing  in  the  world 
would  not  keep  it  light  for  us  an  hour  after  the 
sun  had  gone  down,  so  that  our  last  hour's  ride 
was  in  darkness,  and  in  darkness  we  arrived  at 
the  station  at  Granada. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

GRANADA.      THE   ALHAMBRA. 

If  this  reader  has  ever  had  the  pleasure  of 
riding  up  to  Cornell  University  from  the  city  of 
Ithaca,  he  will  have  what  my  evangelical  friends 
call  a  realizing  sense  of  what  it  is  to  ride  in 
a  rather  shaky  omnibus  up  to  the  Washington 
Irving  Hotel,  high  in  the  Alhambra  gardens, 
from  the  low  level  of  the  railway  in  the  valley. 
The  effect  is  enhanced  if  the  ride  be  taken  in 
crass  darkness,  in  an  omnibus  which  may  have 
been  that  old  "  Governor  Brooks "  which  ran 
hourly  between  Boston  and  the  Norfolk  House 
in  1833.  It  seemed  to  me  to  have  been  trans- 
ferred, without  repairs  or  new  paint,  to  serve  the 
Granada  line  after  forty-nine  years. 

The  ascent  is  so  nearly  vertical,  that  you  have 
a  feeling  that  if  you  lose  your  headway,  only  for 
an  instant,  the  mules  will  fall  backward  over 
your  head,  the  whole  rattle-trap  pivoting  on 
the  hind  axle,  and  that  you  will  all  go  down 
into  the  valley  again,  mules  first,  on  their  backs, 
omnibus  on  top,  and  passengers  on  their  heads. 


94  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

But  we  were  fortunately  spared  this  adventure, 
as  I  have,  up  to  this  time,  been  spared  the  ex- 
perience of  it  at  Ithaca,  —  else  the  reader  would 
not  be  following  these  notes  now. 

After  a  little,  zigzag  roads  up  through  a  dense 
grove,  in  which  nightingales  were  singing  and 
brooks  babbling,  took  the  place  of  the  perpen- 
dicular ascent,  the  omnibus  stopped,  and  the 
cheerful  and  cordial  host  of  the  "Washington 
Irving  "  welcomed  us  at  his  door.  Thus  began 
a  fortnight  of  life,  more  like  life  in  the  Arabian 
Nights  than  any  of  us  are  likely  to  know  until 
we  go  to  the  Alhambra  again. 

To  confess  ignorance  is  a  capital  rule,  and  it 
has  been  of  the  greatest  service  to  me  in  a  long 
and  varied  life.  To  quote  Lewis's  excellent 
joke  at  Bellombre,  I  have  had  a  great  deal  to 
confess  sooner  or  later,  and  whenever  I  have 
obeyed  the  rule  I  have  profited.  On  this  occa- 
sion I  will  confess  that  I  never  knew  what  the 
Alhambra  was,  —  whether  it  were  a  palace  or  a 
district.  The  truth  is,  it  is  either  or  both,  as 
you  choose  to  call  it. 

To  begin  at  the  beginning,  this  projecting 
shelf  of  land,  running  out  from  a  spur  of  the 
Sierra,  must  have  been,  from  the  moment  when 
it  was  made,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  places  in 
the  world.  You  are  three  thousand  feet  or 
more    above    the    level    of   the    sea.     We  had 


STATE  HI 

GRANADA.      Lw  Angeles,  v     95 

ascended  so  far,  more  than  half  a  mile,  verti- 
cally in  our  afternoon's  ride  from  Malaga.  Let 
the  reader  recollect  that  the  Crawford  House, 
at  the  head  of  the  White  Mountain  Notch,  is 
but  nineteen  hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  The 
plateau  occupied  by  the  Alhambra  is  really 
more  like  what  five  and  twenty  acres  of  table- 
land on  the  top  of  Mount  Webster  would  be.  I 
remember  looking  down  in  the  valley  of  George- 
town in  Colorado,  from  a  height  above  that 
town,  much  as  one  looks  down  upon  Granada 
from  the  Alhambra. 

Well,  when  the  Moors  came  into  possession  of 
Southern  Spain,  having  the  whole  country  to 
choose  from,  they  did  as  Uncle  'Zeke  bids  us  do, 
and  "  took  the  best."  That  is  to  say,  they  se- 
lected this  plateau,  high  embanked  by  nature 
above  the  valley,  which  commands,  on  the  west, 
a  view  of  the  Vega,  fifty-seven  square  miles  of 
matchless  fertility,  running  away  from  the  eye 
into  the  purple  of  the  distance;  and  commands, 
on  the  other  side,  the  majestic  view  of  the  range 
of  the  Sierras,  showing  in  its  gorges  streaks  of 
perennial  snow  at  every  season  of  the  year. 
Practically,  these  Moorish  sovereigns  had  all  the 
artistic  skill  there  was  afloat  in  the  world,  and, 
to  use  this  skill,  they  had  all  the  money  they 
needed.  Having  resolved  to  live  here  in  this 
midway  climate,  which  is  never  too  cold,  never 


96  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

too  warm,  where  you  can  always  see  winter  by 
looking  to  the  east,  and  always  see  summer  by 
looking  to  the  west,  they  bade  their  architects 
build  the  most  beautiful  palace  they  could  build, 
and  the  most  comfortable,  and  bade  their  gar- 
deners make  the  most  beautiful  gardens.  In 
these  gardens,  observe,  pine  trees  dream  of  palms 
and  palms  of  pine,  to  their  hearts'  content.  The 
gardeners  and  the  architects  took  them  at  their 
word,  and  did  their  best.  In  1492  they  and  theirs 
were  turned  out.  It  is  now  many  generations 
since  any  king  has  really  lived  in  those  beautiful 
palaces,  though  a  mattress  is  sometimes  laid  in 
one  of  the  chambers  for  the  King  of  Spain,  if  he 
come  that  way,  and  I  think  the  same  thing  was 
done  for  the  Prince  of  Wales.  But  the  palace 
has  never  been  permitted  to  fall  into  ruin.  For 
the  last  generation  it  has  been  attended  to  with 
the  wisest  and  most  reverent  care.  The  gov- 
ernor of  the  whole  place  is  now  Senor  Contreras, 
an  antiquarian,  who  is  also  an  artist,  with  both 
conscience  and  taste.  With  great  wisdom  and 
delicacy,  he  uses  the  funds  which  are  intrusted 
to  him  in  keeping  up  the  gardens  and  in  restor- 
ing, wonderfully  well,  such  decoration  as  time 
or  carelessness  had  destroyed.  I  am  by  no 
means  sure  that  the  glamour,  which  time  has 
thrown  over  the  palace  in  four  centuries,  does 
not  more  than  make  up  for  any  splendor  of  oc- 


GRANADA.  97 

cupation,  which  it  lost  when  the  Moors  were 
driven  away. 

But  I  see  that,  like  every  one  else,  I  hang 
round  the  outside,  without  describing  the  Al- 
hambra.  I  suppose  a  Moor  would  have  said  to 
you  that  it  was  a  fortress,  and  such  was  the  cen- 
tral part  of  what  we  now  call  the  Alhambra.  The 
name,  according  to  the  received  etymology,  is  a 
corruption  of  the  Arabic  kal-at  al  hamra,  the 
red  castle.  Red  alludes  to  the  color  of  the  rock. 
On  the  spot  they  say  there  are  three  colors  to 
the  Alhambra,  —  red,  blue,  and  green  ;  and  in  the 
fortnight  that  I  was  there  the  rocks  were  always 
red,  the  sky  was  of  the  deepest  blue,  and  the 
trees  of  the  greenest  green.  I  do  not  know  what 
the  committee  of  the  Boston  Art  Club  would 
say  to  Alhambra  pictures.  It  is  said  that  when 
Miss  Forbes  sent  them  her  clever  sketches  from 
Colorado  they  would  not  admit  them,  because 
they  had  never  seen  rocks  that  were  so  red.  At 
the  same  time  she  sent  some  decorous  Milton 
Hill  sketches,  which  were  accepted  with  en- 
thusiasm. If  my  readers  share  this  prejudice 
against  positive  color,  they  must  not  go  to  the 
Alhambra. 

The  walls  and  towers  of  the  old  Moorish  de- 
fence still  stand.  On  one  side  they  needed  no 
wall,  for  a  cat  or  a  lizard  would  find  it  hard  to 
work  up  the  cliff  from  the  valley  far  below. 
7 


98  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

Just  outside  these  walls,  surrounded  still  by 
beautiful  gardens,  are  the  two  hotels  of  "  Wash- 
ington Irving,"  generally  spelled  with  a  Y  for  its 
first  letter,  and  the  Siete  Suelos,  parted  only 
from  edch  other  by  a  roadway.  "  Siete  Suelos  " 
means  seven  stories,  that  having  been  the  name 
of  one  of  the  towers  on  the  wall,  close  by.  Be- 
side these  hotels,  there  is  a  group  of  other 
houses  with  their  gardens,  extending,  I  know 
not  how  far,  upon  different  plateaux  of  the 
mountains.  Some  of  them  are  handsome  villas, 
some  of  them  are  modest  boarding-houses,  and 
in  this  region,  intersected  by  rambling  roads,  a 
great  many  people,  who  have  the  same  tastes 
which  the  Moorish  sovereigns  had,  come  to 
spend  now  winter  and  now  summer.  It  is  the 
only  place  known  to  me  to  which  people  go 
purely  for  recreation,  where  the  hotels  are  kept 
open  all  the  year  round,  and  where  the  attrac- 
tions seem  as  great  at  one  season  as  at  another. 
Strictly  speaking,  I  suppose  the  region  within 
the  walls  of  the  fortress,  perhaps  twenty-five 
acres  in  all,  is  the  Alhambra.  But  I  am  quite 
sure  that  in  conversation  the  name  "  Alhambra  " 
would  apply  to  all  the  gardens  and  villas  on  the 
hillside. 

Among  these  villas,  at  some  little  distance 
from  the  castle  itself,  is  one  presented  by  the 
Spanish  government  to  that  distinguished  lady, 


THE  ALII  AM  BR  A.  99 

the  Countess  Calderon,  who  was  for  so  many 
years  our  townswoman.  If,  as  I  believe,  to  this 
lady  was  intrusted  the  early  education  of  the 
present  King  of  Spain,  Spain  cannot  be  too 
eager  to  express  its  gratitude  to  her;  for  every- 
thing seems  to  show  that  this  young  man  is  ad- 
mirably fitted  for  his  very  delicate  position.  He 
certainly  must  be  spoken  of  as  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  remarkable  men  in  Europe  at 
the  present  time. 

Any  one  who  has  his  route  to  lay  out  will  see 
that  there  is  a  certain  moral  advantage,  if  I  may 
so  call  it,  in  taking  Cordova  before  Seville,  and 
Seville  before  Granada.  If  we  had  taken  this  in 
reverse,  we  never  should  have  enjoyed  Seville  and 
Granada  in  the  way  we  did.  As  we  came,  we 
took  our  alphabet  of  orientalism,  then  our  words 
of  two  syllables,  and  now  our  literature.  Thanks 
to  Queen  Isabella  II.,  if  she  did  nothing  else 
good,  the  place  is  in  perfect  order.  With  this 
introduction  I  may  trust  the  reader  to  some 
notes  taken  from  day  to  day  upon  the  spot. 


The  walks  and  avenues  are  like  those  of  a 
modern  palace  in  neatness  and  beauty.  The 
restorations  in  the  palace  of  the  Alhambra  it- 
self are  so  perfect,  that  they  need  a  trained  eye 


IOO  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

to  tell- where  they  begin.  The  patio  of  orange- 
trees  is  in  perfect  cultivation,  the  lions  are  all 
on  their  feet,  and  even  those  whose  ears  were 
broken  off  have  new  ones.  Last  night  we  went 
up  to  see  the  moonlight  effects.  Exigcants 
connoisseurs  were  disappointed,  as  the  moon 
would  not  rise  quite  high  enough  for  them. 
But  for  me,  who  am  not  used  to  valley  views 
seventy  miles  long,  under  the  light  of  a  full 
moon,  the  prospect,  with  the  heavy  shadows  of 
our  cliff  over  Granada,  was  sufficiently  wonder- 
ful. You  can  imagine  to  a  degree  what  witch- 
work  the  moonlight  would  make  on  one  of 
these  walls  of  ivory  carving,  as  it  shines  through 
the  queer,  varied  Saracenic  arches.  We  were 
taught  in  our  childhood  some  stuff  about  four 
orders,  more  or  less,  of  architecture.  For  clear, 
sheer  beauty,  this  Saracenic  arch,  left  out  from 
that  list,  is  the  leader  of  them  all.  I  rather 
think  it  is  the  best  of  all  to  adapt  to  popular 
and  practical  use. 

The  city  of  Granada  is  a  lively  town  of  seventy- 
five  thousand  people,  improving  itself,  opening 
new  streets,  having  a  fine  bull-fight  to-day,  and 
preparing  for  Corpus  Christi  on  Wednesday, 
Up  a  steep  street  like  Bowdoin  Street  you 
climb,  and  come  to  an  arch,  which  is  the  arch 
of  the  Alhambra.  You  pass  it,  and  enter  a 
heavily  shaded  grove,  laid  out  with  parks  and 


THE  ALHAMDRA.  IOI 

roads,  in  very  careful  order,  the  roads  still  as- 
cending a  steep  hill.  This  is  the  beginning  of 
the  gardens  of  the  Alhambra.  This  is  the 
ascent  which  late  at  night  reminded  me  of  the 
roads  at  Cornell  University.  You  continue  as- 
cending, and  in  five  minutes,  on  the  right  and 
left,  lo,  two  hotels,  like  rival  White  Mountain 
houses.  One  is  the  Siete  Suclos,  and  one  the 
Washington  Irving.  These  are  crowded  into 
corners  left  by  the  fortifications  of  the  Alham- 
bra; for  the  Alhambra,  being  a  royal  palace, 
was  fortified,  on  one  side,  inaccessible  on  a  high 
cliff,  on  the  other  side,  by  walls,  like  those  at 
Ticonderoga  or  Quebec  or  Chester, 

So,  then,  when  we  have  breakfasted  we  can 
take  a  short  walk  through  the  grove  to  this 
great  wall ;  and  as  no  Moors  defend  it,  we  pass 
through  the  Puerta  del  Justicia,  or  the  Puerta  de 
Vino,  or  some  sally-port  without  a  name,  and 
we  are  in  the  great  fortress,  which  the  Moors 
garrisoned,  and  which  commanded  the  town. 
Remember  that  cannons,  large  and  small,  were 
well  in  use  before  1492,  when  the  fortress  fell. 
In  this  enceinte  are  now  many  houses,  built 
from  old  ones.  Here  lives,  for  example,  Con- 
trcras,  the  skilful  restorer,  and  governor  of  the 
whole ;  here  is  the  ruin  of  an  unfinished  palace 
of  Charles  the  Fifth ;  here  are  great  box-gar- 
dens, laid  out  to  occupy  old  parade  grounds ; 


102  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

and  here,  at  last,  largest  and  most  important, 
is  the  beautiful  palace  of  the  Alhambra,  the 
nucleus  and  queen  of  the  whole.  You  see  in  it 
what  I  suppose  you  might  see  in  Ispahan  or 
Damascus  or  Cairo,  only  that  you  are  not  per- 
mitted to  do  so.  But  as  you  are  not  permitted 
to  do  so  there,  it  is  a  very  good  thing  for  pure 
Westerners  like  us,  as  it  were  so  many  Visi- 
goths at  the  court  of  one  of  Cleopatra's  de- 
scendants, to  see  how  comfortably  these  people 
lived. 

Perhaps  it  adds  to  the  interest  to  see  the 
blood-stain  where  thirty-six  Abencerrages  chiefs 
were  killed  by  one  of  these  Moorish  kings  not 
long  before  Granada  fell.  To  say  truly,  though 
we  have  a  natural  sympathy  for  these  poor 
Moors,  who  builded  so  much  better  than  their 
successors  knew,  that  as  to  desert,  they  can  be 
said  to  have  deserved  but  little.  Good  archi- 
tecture is  hardly  a  moral  merit.  If  it  were,  I 
think  it  is  a  merit  which  belonged  more  to  the 
ancestors  of  Boabdil  and  those  who  were  turned 
out,  than  to  themselves.  And  for  themselves, 
after  dipping  a  little  into  their  history,  I  am  dis- 
posed to  say  that  if  any  persons  ever  deserved 
the  vengeance  of  the  Almighty  it  was  these 
same  Moorish  chiefs.  As  for  their  people,  I 
know  nothing,  and  say  nothing. 

To  return  to  the  Alhambra  from  this  digres- 


TIIE  ALU  AMUR  A.  103 

sion.  Once  within  the  palace  there  are  still 
many  courts.  One  of  these  is  the  lovely  patio, 
blazing  with  pomegranates,  orange-trees,  lemons, 
roses,  and  bananas,  which  might  properly  be 
called  the  garden  of  the  Alhambra.  This,  or 
the  Court  of  Lions,  is  perhaps  the  central 
almond  meat  of  the  stone  of  the  fruit,  from  the 
outside  of  which  we  have  removed  so  many 
shreds  and  shells,  all  which  more  or  less  re- 
ceive the  name  of  the  Alhambra. 

You  can  conceive  what  endless  walks,  ex- 
plorations, chances  to  sketch,  chances  to  get 
lost,  all  these  gardens  and  lines  of  fortress  and 
ruined  towers,  now  accessible  and  now  inacces- 
sible, afford.  From  the  "  Gate  of  Justice,"  in 
a  painting  of  the  time,  the  Moors  are  repre- 
sented as  pouring  out  to  be  destroyed  by  their 
conquerors. 

The  foliage  has  the  green  of  the  very  earliest 
spring,  and  the  flowers  the  richness  of  tropical 
summer  at  the  same  moment. 

As  you  sketch,  a  little  stream  is  babbling 
at  your  side.  And  if  one  were  living  at  the 
Alhambra,  such  a  stream  might  be  running 
through  the  midst  of  what  would  seem  as  our 
front  entry. 

The  palace  itself  is  perhaps  the  most  charm- 
ing place  of  all.  I  read  aloud  there,  as  the  la- 
dies drew,  the  speeches  at  the  Historical  Society 


104  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

in  memory  of  dear  Mr.  Emerson.  You  know  I 
have  always  been  at  ease  in  palaces,  and  have 
a  feeling  that  I  was  born  to  live  in  one.  And 
these  domestic  occupations  give  one  "  a  realiz- 
ing sense"  of  what  good  times1  they  might  have 
had  there  were  their  daily  cares  anything  but 
cutting  off  each  other's  heads.  As,  in  fact,  they 
lived  here  seven  hundred  years,  and  as  there  are 
not  more  than  seven  crimes  in  the  books  in 
that  period,  it  may  be  that  to  them  the  Alham- 
bra  was  as  peaceful  a  place  as  Washington  seems 
to  us,  despite  Guiteau  and  Booth  and  the  Eng- 
lish occupation  of  1814.  Any  way,  we  had 
many  lovely  afternoons  there.  It  is  rather  the 
central  point  of  all  our  ramblings,  and  we  had 
permits  to  draw  there,  for  all  the  party. 


We  went  down  into  the  city  of  Granada  to 
see  the  opening  of  the  Festa  of  Corpus  Christi, 
which  lasts  several  days,  and  obstructs  a  good 
deal  the  regular  business,  such  as  it  is,  of  the 
place.  The  nucleus  of  the  affair  was  the  giving 
up  by  the  Ayuntamiento  to  the  governor  of  the 
province  of  the  public  square,  that  it  might  be 

3  Let  no  New  Englander  fear  that  this  phrase  is  provincial. 
Pepys  says,  "  We  had  a  glorious  time  !  "  and  Dryden  sang, 
"  The  sons  of  Belial  had  a  glorious  time  !  " 


THE  ALHAMBRA.  105 

open,  I  suppose,  to  all  the  province  for  their 
festivities.  Whether  this  actual  ceremony,  which 
is,  as  you  see,  a  sort  of  Artillery  Election,  ever 
in  fact  took  place,  I  do  not  know.  What  we 
saw  was  very  much  like  Fourth  of  July  on  our 
Common,  —  great  crowds  of  country  people 
swaying  to  and  fro  with  whatever  motive  or  with 
none.  I  think  our  two  artists,  making  hasty 
studies  of  heads  and  costumes,  interested  los 
kombres  and  las  mugeres  and  los  ninos  and  las 
niuas  as  much  as  did  the  fountains  or  the  bands 
of  music. 

In  the  middle  of  the  square  is  erected  a  great 
canvas  temple,  for  any  functions  that  may  need 
a  lofty  platform.  Around  this  little  fountains 
play,  some  from  the  muskets  of  small  soldiers, 
some  propelling  the  swords  of  other  soldiers, 
and  others  making  cavalrymen  to  rock.  Quite 
on  the  outside  of  the  square,  on  a  high  staging, 
run  a  series  of  twenty-two  well-painted  satiri- 
cal pictures,  hitting  off  the  follies  of  the  time. 
One  is  a  school  of  men  and  women  learning  the 
decimal  system  of  mensuration,  in  fear  that,  if 
they  do  not,  the  Alcalde  will  refuse  them  certifi- 
cates of  marriage.  One  is  a  philosopher  aban- 
doning his  globes  and  books,  and  practising  for 
bull-fighting,  because  it  pays  better.  Between 
the  pictures,  painted  in  large  letters,  are  doggerel 
rhymes,  illustrating  them.     At   one   end  of  the 


106  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

square  is  a  long  poem,  painted  in  large  letters, 
an  ode,  a  hymn  on  the  Incarnation,  and  another 
glorifying  Granada  and  its  history.  In  another 
park  are  regular  booths,  to  sell  candy  and  other 
fairings,  just  like  ours  in  general  plan,  but  ar- 
ranged with  one  plan,  and  a  simple  (canvas) 
architectural  effect,  so  as  to  give  unity  to  the 
whole.  There  was  to  be  an  illumination.  But 
the  Ayuntamiento  owes  the  Gas  Company 
twenty  thousand  dollars  already ;  so  on  Monday 
night  the  Gas  Company  shut  off  the  gas  from 
the  town,  and  people  had  to  come  and  go  in 
darkness. 

The  palace  itself  is  an  endless  satisfaction. 
Every  time  you  walk  there,  you  discover  some- 
thing new.  Yesterday  I  indulged  myself  in  a 
book  of  the  Arabian  inscriptions  on  the  walls.. 
With  the  notes,  it  makes  a  reasonable  volume. 
There  were  days  when  I  could  read  a  little  Ara- 
bic. I  have  now  forgotten  the  few  words  I 
knew.  But  I  found  gradually  that  I  could  make 
out  the  characters.  The  ladies  each  make  two 
pictures  a  day,  one  in  the  morning  light,  one  in 
the  afternoon  light,  with  endless  adjunct  studies 
from  the  bedroom  balconies  and  from  terraces 
or  other  lookouts  ;  for,  with  every  new  day, 
some  one  has  discovered  that  there  is  a  tower 
or  garden  which  has  not  been  visited  before,  and 
from  which  there  is  a  new  view  or  in  which  there 
are  new  effects. 


THE  ALU  AM  BRA.  107 

Fortuny  and  Regnault  really  made  their  homes 
here.  On  the  Siete  Suelos  wall  are  inscriptions 
which  tell  when  they  lived  there.  A  gypsy  is 
in  attendance  to  pose  for  artists  as  he  did  for 
them.  In  this  land  of  color  one  is  always 
tempted  to  paint.  I  have  said  that  green,  red, 
and  blue  are  the  colors  of  Granada.  Add  to 
this,  that  excepting  one  day  there  has  not  been 
a  cloud  as  big  as  a  man's  hand  on  this  blue  sky, 
which  is  a  defiance  to  the  deepest  ultramarine, 
—  for  all  which  blue  sky  in  June  we  are  so  high 
that  the  air  is  even  bracing.  We  had  no  expe- 
rience in  a  fortnight  of  June  of  what  we  should 
call  a  hot  day  in  Boston. 


As  we  came  home  from  the  exquisite  Gene- 
ralife  gardens,  we  were  listening  to  nightingales 
singing  in  June,  and  looking  on  the  snow  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada. 

"  Have  I  dilated  on  nightingales  since  Algeci- 
ras?  You  know  I  never  heard  any  before.  I 
have  veered  to  and  fro  in  my  views  about  them. 
At  one  time  I  said  that  if  a  single  frog,  neither 
of  the  shrill  chirping  kind  of  the  spring,  nor  the 
deep,  bass  onderdonk  kind  of  the  autumn,  could 
be  set  at  his  lonely  "  tunk,"  "  tunk,"  "  tunk,"  at 
midnight,  he  might  be  mistaken  for  a  nightin- 


108  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

gale.  But  since  that  I  have  had  better  luck.  I 
think  I  was  fairly  waked  by  one,  one  night,  in 
the  very  dead  of  night.  The  n  of  the  "  tunk  " 
ameliorated  itself  almost  to  /,  so  liquid  was  it. 
The  tone*  is  so  deep  as  to  suggest  that  the  bird 
sings  contralto,  and  not  soprano,  and  the  tout 
ensemble  is  a  sort  of  richness  which  certainly 
few  notes  have.  Sometimes  a  mocking-bird 
gives  you  the  same  sound.  This  midnight  song 
is  more  interesting,  though  more  monotonous, 
than  the  twitter  of  the  same  bird  at  sunset.  Do 
you  know,  that  the  song  is  the  conjugal  duty  of 
the  husband?  He  sings  to  his  mate  (not  to  the 
rose)  while  she  sits  on  the  eggs.  If  he  fails  to 
sing,  she  dies !  Poor  fellow,  what  do  you  sup- 
pose his  rights  to  be,  if  she  should  go  to  sleep 
for  half  an  hour? 


NOTES   ON  THE   CARTHUJA. 

"  Friday.  We  took  our  drive  at  nine  o'clock 
to  the  convent  still  called  the  Carthuja,  because 
it  was  a  convent  of  the  Carthusians,  before  such 
things  were  suppressed.  Thirty  old  monks  had 
the  benefit  of  it,  of  whom,  now,  all  but  two  are 
dead,  and  nobody  has  any  benefit  from  it  ex- 
cept sight-seers.  But  I  suppose  the  funds  which 
sustained  such  magnificence  now  go  to  govern- 
ment, or  some  dependant  on  government. 


THE  ALHAMBRA.  1 09 

"  The  show-rooms  are  magnificent ;  on  the 
whole,  I  think  the  most  complete  and  lavish 
decoration  which  I  have  ever  seen.  There  are 
several  pictures  and  several  statues  by  Alonzo 
Cano,  this  more  than  Raffaelle  and  more  than 
Murillo,  of  Spanish  art,  of  whom  those  critics 
with  whom  we  are  most  familiar  know  absolutely 
nothing.  As  in  most  of  the  Spanish  religious 
buildings,  the  pictures  seem  painted  for  the 
places  they  are  in,  parts  of  the  decoration,  and 
not  stuck  on,  as  an  afterthought.  There  are 
other  good  pictures  and  statues.  But,  after  all, 
the  glory  of  the  place  is  architectural  and  in  the 
richness  of  every  detail.  I  never  dreamed  of 
such  mosaic,  of  wood  and  ivory,  as  in  the  doors 
and  cabinets  of  the  vestry,  which  is,  perhaps,  the 
finest  room  in  Europe." 

There  are  woods  all  about  Granada,  and  rivers 
running  through  it,  and  you  can  see  the  hills 
around  all  covered  by  gardens.  About  half  a 
mile  from  the  city  begin  the  Sierra  Morena,  with 
their  tops  covered  with  snow.  The  Moors 
founded  Granada,  and  in  their  time  it  was  much 
more  splendid  than  it  is  now.  While  they  were 
there,  there  were  four  hundred  thousand  of  them. 
The  city  was  nine  miles  round,  and  there  were 
more  than  a  thousand  towers  guarding  it.  Even 
now  it  has  several  fine  buildings,  two  large 
squares,  sixteen  smaller  ones,  many  public  foun- 


110  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

tains,  seven  colleges,  eleven  hospitals,  a  fine  thea- 
tre built  by  the  French,  and  sixty  churches. 

On  the  left  bank  of  the  Genii  is  the  city  of 
Santa  Fe.  It  was  founded  by  Isabella.  During 
the  siege  of  Granada  the  Queen  made  a  vow  not 
to  change  her  linen  until  the  city  was  taken. 
To  frighten  the  enemy,  her  camp  was  changed 
into  a  fortified  town,  and  was  called  Santa  Fe. 
Unfortunately  for  the  Queen,  the  Moors  held  out 
so  well  that  it  was  long  before  the  town  was 
taken,  and  by  that  time  the  Queen's  linen  had 
turned  to  a  yellow  color.  But  as  the  Queen  wore 
it  the  shade  became  quite  fashionable,  and  is 
known  to  this  day  as  "  Isabella."  It  was  in 
Santa  Fe  that  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  approved 
of  the  first  expedition  undertaken  by  Columbus. 
In  1807  the  city  was  almost,  destroyed  by  an 
earthquake. 

I  try  to  spare  this  reader,  my  unknown  but 
loyal  friend,  the  description  of  our  daily  meals. 
It  cannot  interest  him  much  to  know  that  the 
apricots  of  Ronda  were  riper  than  those  of  Cor- 
dova, or  the  figs  larger.  But  as  the  guide-books 
have  a  great  deal  to  say  about  Spanish  food,  and 
as  I  write  these  notes  rather  for  people  who  are 
doubting  about  routes  for  future  travel,  I  am 
tempted  to  say  something  here  about  the  table, 
which  has  and  ought  to  have  a  good  deal  to  do 
with  the  plans  of  people  who  are  looking  for- 
ward to  a  holiday. 


THE  ALII  AM  BR  A.  Ill 

Garlic  is  always  spoken  of  as  a  terror  in  Spain. 
Let  me  then  say,  once  for  all,  that,  till  the  last 
day  I  was  in  Spain,  I  did  not  know  what  the 
taste  of  garlic  was.  On  that  day  my  sister  asked 
me  if  I  liked  the  flavor  of  the  mutton.  When  I 
said  I  did,  she  told  me  that  its  peculiar  flavor 
was  that  of  the  much-dreaded  garlic.  I  have 
suffered  much  more  annoyance  in  Philadelphia 
in  a  week  of  springtime  from  the  flavor  in 
milk  of  what  they  call  "  wild  garlic,"  than  I  did 
in  six  weeks  of  Spain  from  all  foreign  odors  or 
flavors  put  together.  And  this,  as  Philadel- 
phians  know,  is  saying  very  little. 

Everywhere  we  found  clean  and  neat  tables, 
ready  service  at  table,  and  abundance  of  fruit 
at  every  meal.  The  cooking  resembles  that  of 
New  England  in  some  things  more  than  that  of 
France. 

As  far  as  I  understand,  the  famous  olla  po- 
drida  is  the  same  thing  now  known  as  zpuchero, 
though  in  this  authorities  differ.  It  is  simply, 
as  I  think,  the  "  biled  dish  "  of  washing-day  in 
the  country.  It  is  corned  beef  served  in  slices, 
but  sliced  after  boiling,  served  on  a  dish  with 
abundant  gravy,  while  at  one  end  of  the  dish 
there  is  a  heap  of  onions,  at  another  one  of 
string-beans ;  on  one  side,  perhaps,  cabbage,  al- 
ways a  heavy  layer  in  some  place  of  baked  beans 
(or  pease),  and,  for  garnishes,  bits  of  sausage 


112  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

cut  in  slices,  and  perhaps  of  other  such  meats, 
maybe  sliced  tongue.  These  things  are  not, 
however,  boiled  in  the  same  pot,  as  in  the  "  biled 
dish"  they  would  have  been,  I  think.  Perhaps 
what  I  call  baked  beans  may  have  been  boiled 
with  the  corned  beef;  probably  they  were.  The 
other  things  are  cooked  separately,  but  served 
together.  The  effect  is  exactly  as  if  a  hungry 
man  came  in,  when  his  wife  had  prepared  an 
abundant  dinner,  and  on  this  large  plate  he  ar- 
ranged the  different  things  all  ready  to  begin. 
The  dish  is  handed  to  you  thus  prepared,  and 
you  take  from  it  what  you  like.  I  would  not  go 
into  such  detail,  but  that  olla  podrida  has  now  a 
name  in  literature. 

Really  the  most  striking  thing  in  the  table  is 
the  abundance  of  fruit,  of  which  I  spoke,  served 
always  at  breakfast  and  dinner.  We  had  apri- 
cots and  oranges  at  every  meal ;  cherries  almost 
always.  With  us  at  home  the  season  of  cherries 
is  very  short.  In  Spain  they  know  how  to  pro- 
long it,  and  they  bring  them  to  the  market  in 
much  better  condition  than  we  do.  Strawberries 
are  the  small,  old-fashioned  garden  variety. 
They  are  very  good,  and  must  be  very  cheap.  We 
always  have  them  at  dinner,  sometimes  at  lunch 
or  breakfast.  For  us,  after  we  left  Seville,  figs 
appeared.  Per  contra,  I  did  not  see  a  hot  bis- 
cuit, a  slice  of  toast  in  any  form,  nor  anything  in 


THE  ALHAMBRA.  1 13 

the  shape  of  buckwheats  or  flapjacks.  Cro- 
quettes they  have  as  we  do,  and  give  them  the 
same  name.  Dinner  is  served  as  at  a  table  d'hote 
in  Switzerland,  but  that  the  fish  comes  later. 
The  object  is  to  break  the  substantial  dishes, 
always  three,  with  entremets  of  less  importance. 
Strange  to  say,  chocolate  seems  no  more  an  ar- 
ticle of  general  national  use  than  with  us.  You 
find  it  when  you  least  expect  it ;  but  at  hotels  it 
is  just  as  much  a  nuisance  as  with  us,  and  as 
likely  to  be  badly  made.  Coffee  is  pretty  good. 
It  seems  from  Don  Quixote  that  they  used  chic- 
ory long  before  they  heard  of  coffee,  though  I 
cannot  see  why  they  did  not  get  it  from  the 
Moors  as  early  as  the  tenth  century.  Tea  is 
never  heard  of  in  common  use  at  the  good 
hotels ;  you  can  order  it,  of  course,  but  you  have 
hot  water  brought  you. 

In  this  hasty  review  I  have  said  nothing  of  the 
charms  of  cooking  in  oil.  It  seems  to  me  that 
we  might  do  well  to  try  it.  The  result  is  deli- 
cious ;  nothing  seems  to  get  soaked,  as  one  finds 
at  a  bad  hotel  where  they  have  lard  enough. 
I  have  fancied  that  perhaps  you  have  to  use  less, 
for  some  unknown  reason.  Any  way,  the  crisp- 
ness  and  sweetness  of  fried  things  is  very  ob- 
servable. 

I  sent  for  the  steward  at  the  Washington  Yr- 
ving  hotel  and  made  him  give  me  the  direction 
8 


114  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

for  serving  gaspacho,  which  is  a  sort  of  summer 
soup,  if  it  deserves  that  name,  served  cold.  As 
I  read  his  directions  now  in  the  midst  of  winter, 
the  recipe  seems  to  me  a  little  like  that  for  stone 
soup,  which  made  a  favorite  story  of  my  boyhood. 
Such  as  it  is,  however,  some  of  your  house- 
keeping readers  may  like  to  try  it  when  the  ther- 
mometer is  ninety-eight  in  the  shade.  You  will 
observe  that  he  has  left  us  free  to  vary  the  pro- 
portion of  the  ingredients  to  suit  our  taste. 

Gaspacho.  Cut  onions,  tomatoes,  and  cucum- 
bers in  very  small  solid  pieces.  Serve  in  water, 
of  which  there  should  be  plenty,  stirring  in  oil 
and  vinegar,  with  pepper  and  salt  as  you  please. 

He  also  gave  us  his  formula,  such  as  it  is,  for 
Arroz  a  la  Valenciana,  a  very  nice  preparation 
of  rice,  not  unlike  in  effect  to  the  Eastern  pilau  : 
Rice,  chicken,  ham,  fish,  pease,  tomatoes,  arti- 
chokes, pepper,  salt,  oil.  Baked  like  escalloped 
oysters. 

One  of  the  earliest  associations  which  most  Eng- 
lish readers  have  with  the  Alhambra  is  in  their 
memory  of  Irving's  "  Tales  of  the  Alhambra." 
And  those  who  are  such  sturdy  fiction  readers 
that  they  have  never  followed  up  that  charming 
book  with  "  The  Conquest  of  Granada,"  have  a 
great  pleasure  yet  in  store.  He  is,  to  this  hour, 
the  received  historian  of  the  region.  And  the 
landlord  at  the  Washington  Irving  hotel  put  into 


THE  ALII  AM  BRA.  1 1 5 

my  hands  a  French  translation  of  "The  Conquest 
of  Granada  "  as  soon  as  I  arrived. 

Irving  was  led  to  these  literary  undertakings 
"as  he  worked  upon  the  Life  of  Columbus.  To 
this  subject  his  attention  was  called  in  the  winter 
of  1825-26  by  Mr.  Al^cander  Everett,  who  had 
then  just  been  appointed  by  John  Quincy  Adams 
as  our  Minister  to  Spain.  Irving  was  at  Bordeaux 
when  he  received  a  letter  from  Mr:  Everett,  tell- 
ing him  that  Navarrete  was  on  the  great  work  of 
publishing,  with  proper  notes,  the  original  docu- 
ments of  the  voyages  of  Columbus,  and  suggest- 
ing that  here  was  a  subject  worthy  of  his  pen. 
Mr.  Everett  proposed  a  translation  of  the  book. 
Irving  at  once  joined  him  in  Madrid,  and  there 
Mr.  Everett  gave  him  the  advantages  of  an  at- 
tach^ of  the  legation.  As  soon  as  Navarette's 
book  appeared,  Irving  perceived,  with  that  sound 
good  sense  which  characterized  all  his  life,  that 
the  form  of  it  was  not  such  as  would  be  attrac- 
tive to  readers  not  themselves  historians.  He 
saw,  also,  that  most  such  readers  would  want,  not 
these  documents  only,  but  a  connected  narrative 
of  Columbus's  life  and  discoveries.  In  Madrid  he 
had  every  advantage  for  such  work.  He  was  liv- 
ing in  the  house  of  Mr.  Rich,  the  American  con- 
sul, who  had  an  admirable  library  of  books  and 
papers  bearing  on  Spanish  colonial  history.  The 
royal  library,  of  which  I  shall  have  occasion  to 


Il6  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

speak  again,  and,  indeed,  all  the  Spanish  collec- 
tions, were  open  to  him.  And  so,  fortunately  for 
us,  he  fell  to  work  on  the  Life  of  Columbus,  which 
he  wrought  out  so  admirably  well. 

He  originally  inserted,  in  the  early  part  of  this 
book,  as  so  many  amusingwDr  interesting  episodes, 
some  of  the  narratives  which  are  now  to  be  found 
in  the  "  Tales  of  the  Alhambra"  and  some  of  those 
in  "  The  Conquest  of  Granada."  The  reader  must 
remember  that  our  Columbus  was  present  in  the 
flesh  when  the  Moors  surrendered  the  fortress  of 
the  Alhambra,  and,  with  the  eyes  that  saw  the 
Bahamas  a  few  months  after,  saw  the  procession 
file  out  from  the  gateway  for  the  act  of  capitula- 
tion. To  make  himself  intimate  with  the  geog- 
raphy and  local  colonies  of  the  Moorish  war,  and 
to  study  documents  in  Seville  also,  Irving  resided 
in  that  city  for  some  months.  He  also  made  vari- 
ous excursions  up  and  down  this  lonely  Vega,  so 
that  he  might  see  for  himself  the  fortress  and 
cities  which  were  the  scenes  so  often  of  attack 
and  repulse.  The  longest  stay  which  he  made 
anywhere  was,  very  naturally,  in  the  Alhambra 
itself.  In  those  days  matters  were  easily  admin- 
istered here,  and,  as  the  reader  will  remember, 
Irving  was  permitted  actually  to  live  in  the  pal- 
ace. I  have  seen  many  other  persons  who  had 
enjoyed  this  privilege.  Many  more  have  I  seen 
who  had  lived  in  one  or  another  lodging-house 


THE  ALII  AM  BRA.  117 

within  the  old  walls  of  the  Alhambra,  and  so  are 
in  the  habit  of  saying  that  they  had  lived  in  the 
Alhambra.  But  Irving  actually  slept,  ate  and 
drank,  and  wrote  his  letters  and  read  his  news- 
papers, in  one  or  the  other  of  the  rooms  of  the 
palace. 

As  the  work  of  the  Life  of  Columbus  went  on, 
he  was  afraid  that  he  was  interweaving  too  many 
threads  of  romance  into  the  web  of  history,  and 
eventually,  before  he  published  the  book,  he  sep- 
arated from  it  what  did  not  belong  strictly  to  the 
personality  of  Columbus,  and  made  from  the  more 
historical  portions  the  "  Conquest  of  Granada," 
which  is  veritable  history,  although  Fra  Aga- 
pida  appears  in  it  as  an  interpreter,  somewhat 
as  in  Carlyle's  histories  Mr.  Dryasdust  appears. 
From  the  more  romantic  studies  Irving  made  up 
the  charming  "Tales  of  the  Alhambra." 

One  of  our  most  distinguished  officers  has  con- 
tributed to  that  great  History  of  Discovery,  in 
this  past  summer,  a  very  valuable  and  instructive 
study.  Admiral  Fox,  who  administered  the  prac- 
tical work  of  the  Navy  Department  in  the  Civil 
War,  has  published  his  admirable  study  of  the 
Landfall  of  Columbus,  which  leaves  little  or  any 
doubt  as  to  the  spot  which  they  first  lighted  on 
after  the  tedious  voyage. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

WORSHIP    IN    SPAIN. 

In  Seville  I  had  found  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty a  Protestant  church.  It  belongs  to  what 
calls  itself  the  National  Church  of  Spain,  which, 
in  the  whole  peninsula,  collects,  I  think,  some- 
where between  ten  and  twenty  congregations. 
In  all,  the  branches  of  Protestant  communicants 
count  up  sixty  or  seventy  congregations  only 
throughout  the  country.  Under  the  present 
constitution  all  forms  of  worship  are  permitted, 
but  only  the  Catholic  Church  may  make  its  wor- 
ship public.  The  interpretation  of  this  last  sav- 
ing clause  varies  with  the  mood  of  the  time  and 
with  the  administration  of  government.  Just 
now  it  is  strictly  construed,  so  that  persons  not 
Catholics  do  not  consider  themselves  permitted 
to  announce  their  public  services  in  the  news- 
papers. 

It  was  perfectly  well  known  at  our  hotel  in 
Seville  that  there  was  a  Protestant  church  some- 
where. But  where  it  was,  was  doubtful ;  and  as 
of  the  time  of  service  all  parties  were  as  ignorant 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  1 19 

and  indifferent  as  a  gentlemanly  clerk  at  a  hotel 
in  Atlanta  or  New  Orleans  would  be  apt  to  be 
when  asked  the  hour  of  service  at  the  Unitarian 
church  there,  we  finally  went,  at  a  venture,  at 
what  seemed  the  average  time,  to  the  square 
indicated.  Arriving  there,  we  found  a  certain 
agreement  among  the  loafers  in  attendance  as  to 
the  place  of  worship.  Clearly  enough,  it  had 
been  built  for  a  church.  At  the  door  an  old 
woman  was  found,  who  announced  that  the  morn- 
ing service  was  just  over,  but  that  service  would 
be  renewed  in  the  evening,  at  nine  o'clock. 

I  am  disposed  to  believe  that  these  somewhat 
abnormal  hours,  giving  a  service  early  in  the 
morning  and  late  in  the  evening,  were  selected 
intentionally,  that  the  church  might  not  interfere 
with  the  hours  of  Catholic  worship ;  or  to  state 
the  same  thing  in  another  way,  that  worshippers 
might  come  to  the  Protestant  service  without 
losing  a  chance  at  the  Catholic  service.  Mr. 
Moody,  as  may  be  remembered,  ordered  his 
Sunday  services  with  similar  deference  to  exist- 
ing institutions. 

At  nine  in  the  evening,  accordingly,  I  repaired 
again  to  the  place,  and  found  sixty  or  eighty 
people  assembled,  and  a  clergyman  dressed  in 
a  white  surplice  carrying  on  a  liturgical  service. 
The  assembly  was  silent  and  devout  in  manner, 
and  joined  reverently  in  the  parts  of  the  liturgy 


120  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

which  belonged  to  them.  They  sang  with  great 
spirit  Spanish  hymns. 

The  liturgy  was  formed  throughout,  as  I 
learned  afterwards  from  the  bishop  whom  I  vis- 
ited in  Madrid,  on  the  old  Mozarabic  or  National 
Rite  of  Spain.  This  service,  based  on  what  is 
known  to  theologians  as  the  liturgy  of  St.  James, 
was  the  original  national  service  first  known  in 
Spain,  and  in  universal  use  there  until  the  Moor- 
ish conquests.  The  Moors,  tolerant  enough  to 
worshippers  who  did  not  assail  their  institutions, 
permitted  the  Christians  who  chose  to  meet 
even  in  conquered  cities,  and  to  retain  this  na- 
tional worship.  When,  therefore,  after  centuries, 
the  forces  of  Christian  kings  took  possession  of 
such  cities  as  Toledo  and  Seville,  which  had 
been  under  Moorish  domination,  they  found 
churches  of  Christians  who  had  been  true  to  the 
cross  in  all  these  ages  of  darkness,  and  were 
still  worshipping  in  the  old  forms.  Meanwhile, 
however,  under  the  predominant  power,  moral 
and  physical,  of  the  learned  court  of  Charle- 
magne, the  "  Rite,"  as  it  is  called  in  the  older 
theologians,  of  Italy  had  worked  its  way  into  the 
Northern  churches.  Among  a  people  to  whom 
the  forms  of  religion  meant  pretty  much  the 
whole  of  it,  there  were  therefore  in  contrast,  not 
to  say  conflict,  two  rival  "  Rites  "  or  forms. 

By  hook  and  by  crook,  literally,  the  Mozara- 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  121 

bic  form  has  now  been  driven  out  of  all  the  Cath- 
olic churches  of  Spain  excepting  one  little  chapel 
in  Toledo.  It  takes  the  name  "  Mozarabic,"  or 
"  Muzarabic,"  from  its  having  been  used  under 
the  Arabic  dynasties.  But,  loyally  enough,  when 
the  Spanish  Protestants  organized  themselves  for 
a  worship  independent  of  Rome,  they  drew  upon 
the  admirable  resources  of  this  ancient  device  for 
the  prayers  and  forms  of  their  national  liturgy. 

The  congregation  around  me  at  Seville  seemed 
a  body  of  devout  people,  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, in  much  the  same  proportions  which  one 
would  have  found  in  New  England,  seriously  en- 
gaged in  what  they  had  in  hand.  Strange  to  say, 
there  was  in  the  church  and  in  the  service  none 
of  the  aspect  of  revolt  or  self-assertion  which  I, 
for  one,  have  often  seen  in  an  assembly  of  Come- 
outers,  and  which  I  certainly  expected  in  a  Prot- 
estant church  in  Seville.  I  was  led  to  think 
that  they  hardly  knew  that  they  were  making 
any  protest  against  the  ecclesiastical  power  of 
the  place,  but  rather  that  they  came  together  for 
the  pleasure  of  singing  hymns  in  their  own  lan- 
guage, and  the  satisfaction  of  prayer  in  union, — 
a  satisfaction  which  is  practically  almost  denied 
to  worshippers  in  Catholic  churches,  who  only 
hear  a  prayer  in  a  language  which  they  do  not 
understand  and  in  which  they  unite  with  diffi- 
culty even  in  form,  particularly  when  they  cannot 


122  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

read,  as  is  the  case  with  most  Spaniards.  In 
short,  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  were  religious 
people,  who  were,  very  likely,  adding  to  the  some- 
what stereotyped  formalities  of  the  Catholic 
Church  the  pleasure  and  profit  of  closer  com- 
munion with  each  other  and  with  God  which 
they  found  in  worship  in  their  own  language. 

I  stopped  to  speak  with  the  priest  after  he  had 
dismissed  the  congregation.  He  told  me  that  on 
Sunday  he  never  permitted  himself  to  enter  into 
discussion  or  controversy ;  that  he  reserved  all 
attacks  on  the  Roman  Church,  or  all  justifica- 
tion of  Protestantism,  for  his  services  on  week- 
days. With  a  certain  pride,  which  I  am  afraid 
I  must  call  professional,  he  explained  that  on 
these  week-day  gatherings  I  should  find  a  larger 
assembly  than  I  had  seen  on  Sunday.  Alas !  I 
knew  only  too  well  that  the  chances  are  that 
more  men  will  come  to  a  fight  than  will  meet  to 
pray.  But,  all  the  same,  I  was  more  glad  to  have 
joined  with  his  colony  of  glad  and  reverent  wor- 
shippers than  I  should  have  been  to  hear  his 
best  knock-down  confutation  of  the  Pope  or  his 
satellites. 

In  Granada,  rightly  or  not,  I  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  there  was  no  effort  at  worship  ex- 
cepting in  the  forms  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  When  Sunday  came,  therefore,  we  re- 
paired to  the  cathedral.     I  had  taken  the  pre- 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  123 

caution  to  inquire,  the  day  before,  what  might 
be  the  hour  for  service ;  and  to  say  truly,  I  do 
not  think  any  one  in  our  hotel,  excepting  us, 
knew  or  cared  much  when  the  time  came.  But 
it  was  spread  abroad  that  a  specially  distin- 
guished preacher,  Rev.  Dr.  Somebody,  was  to 
preach  the  sermon,  while  the  cardinal-archbishop 
and  his  retinue  were  to  administer  High  Mass. 
So  we  seemed  likely  to  follow  the  direction  of 
the  dictionary  people,  and  to  "  get  the  best"  there 
was  in  that  region  by  going  there. 

Now,  in  what  I  have  to  say  of  this  service  I 
have  no  wish  to  offend  Catholic  susceptibilities. 
I  have  only  the  wish  to  say  how  such  worship  af- 
fects a  person  not  trained  to  it,  as  it  might  affect 
a  visitor  from  the  planet  Mars.  With  the  Roman 
Catholic  service  in  America  I  am,  I  believe,  quite 
well  acquainted.  I  have  worshipped  in  some  of 
the  principal  Roman  cathedrals  in  Europe,  and 
in  I  know  not  how  many  other  churches  of  that 
faith.  In  Spain  there  are  certain  peculiarities 
which  force  themselves  upon  attention.  I  fancy 
they  spring  partly  from  the  present  attitude  of 
the  people  to  religion,  and  partly  from  the  past 
power  of  the  ecclesiastics.  They  force  them- 
selves upon  a  stranger's  attention  as  perhaps  they 
do  not  upon  officiating  priests,  who  have  seen 
the  same  thing  since  they  were  old  enough  to 
remember  anything. 


124  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

The  architectural  peculiarity  of  the  Spanish 
cathedrals,  as  the  reader  should  remember,  is  the 
presence  of  the  Coro,  or  church  within  a  church, 
such  as  I  have  spoken  of  at  Burgos,  at  Cordova, 
at  Seville,  and  such  as  is  here  at  Granada  again. 

o 

We  saw  the  same  thing  at  Malaga  and  Cadiz. 
You  have  the  large  cathedral  with  its  front  of 
high  pillars,  and  its  lofty  arches  above.  Within 
that  you  build  a  Coro  in  the  middle.  The  walls 
do  not  quite  reach  the  roof:  they  are  high  enough 
to  seclude  the  people  in  it  wholly  from  the  sight 
of  those  outside,  and  what  passes  within  cannot 
be  well  heard  outside;  nor  indeed  is  it  meant 
to  be. 

But  it  may  be  —  as  here  at  Granada  —  that 
one  end  of  the  Coro  is  parted  from  the  other  end, 
as  in  old  ships  the  forecastle  was  parted  from 
the  stern,  so  that  the  layman  on  the  floor  of  the 
cathedral  may  pass  across  the  Coro  from  one 
side  to  the  other.  In  this  case  there  will  be  a 
rail,  to  prevent  his  straying  either  way  within 
these  sacred  precincts. 

Inside  the  Coro  are  the  high  desks  and  prayer- 
books,  the  ranges  of  seats  for  priests,  the  altar, 
and  the  cabinet  which  contains  the  pyx,  and, 
in  short,  everything  which  makes  the  church  a 
church.  Inside  the  Coro,  accordingly,  at  Gra- 
nada, the  company  of  the  clergy  assembled. 
From  one  end  where  they  sat  to  the  other  end 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  12$ 

where  they  kneeled  at  the  altar,  they  moved  from 
time  to  time  in  procession.  Once  this  proces- 
sion passed  out  into  the  larger  cathedral,  and  all 
around  the  church  in  the  aisles.  This  was  indeed 
the  most  interesting  ceremonial  to  me,  because 
in  fact  the  people — what  there  were  of  them 
—  were  there;  and  this  was  the  only  part  of  the 
ritual  which  recognized  their  existence  or  showed 
that  anybody  was  interested  in  them. 

I  will  not  discuss  the  ritual  of  the  Church 
of  Rome,  or  of  its  fitness  for  its  purpose. 
But  no  person  can  compare  a  Catholic  cathe- 
dral in  America  with  a  Catholic  cathedral  in 
Spain  without  a  feeling  that  the  Church  of 
Rome  has  learned  a  lesson  here  which  it  needs 
to  learn  there ;  or  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to 
say  that  The  People  is  sovereign  here,  and  that 
there  is  another  Sovereign  there.  I  suppose  that 
if  King  Alfonso  went  to  worship  in  the  Cathe- 
dral of  Granada,  the  magic  gates  of  the  Coro 
would  fly  open  to  him,  and  that  he  would  find 
he  was  made  as  welcome  as  the  priests.  I 
am  sure  that  in  Boston,  whoever  went  into  the 
Catholic  cathedral  would  be  welcomed  as  if  he 
were  a  worshipper,  and  would  be  made  as  wel- 
come as  the  priest.  I  am  equally  sure  that  the 
hundred  people  not  priests  who  did  attend  the 
worship  in  Granada  the  day  I  was  there  were 
given  to  understand  quite  distinctly  that  they  had 


126  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

no  business  there.  While  the  great  Coro  was 
virtually  empty,  those  people  stood  outside,  un- 
less a  mendicant  offered  a  stool  for  their  hire. 
Standing  outside,  they  would  be  bidden  to  get 
out  of  the  way  of  the  procession  when  it  came. 
One  was  reminded,  indeed,  of  General  Magru- 
der's  phrase  a  few  years  after  he  left  West  Point. 
Worried  by  the  necessities  of  an  officer's  duty, 
but  not  disliking  either  the  compensation  or  the 
social  attractions  connected  with  it,  Magruder 
said,  "  The  army  would  be  a  very  decent  place  if 
there  were  no  privates."  It  seemed  clear  enough 
that  the  ecclesiastics  at  Granada  felt  that  their 
position  would  be  much  more  tolerable  if  there 
were  no  people ! 

A  considerable  number  of  the  clergy  joined 
in  the  service,  but  I  think  it  was  only  in  this 
number  that  it  differed  greatly  from  the  service 
to  which  we  were  accustomed.  The  day  was 
Trinity  Sunday.  The  preacher  took  the  baptis- 
mal formula  in  Matthew  for  his  text,  as  I  have 
observed  Trinitarian  preachers  often  do  when 
they  preach  this  sermon ;  for  the  sermon  was 
the  same  in  substance  which  I  have  often  heard 
on  such  occasions.  The  misfortune  of  the  text 
for  their  purpose  is  that  it  omits  the  essential 
words,  "  These  three  are  one." 

This  sermon  is,  of  course,  no  argument  for 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.     On  the  other  hand, 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  1 27 

it  concedes  the   point   that   the  mystery   is  no 
matter  of  argument.     And  no  man  could  have 
made   this   concession    more    frankly   than    our 
friend  on  Sunday.     He  began  with  a  lamentable 
picture  of  the  desperate  state  in  which  the  world 
finds  itself  at  this  time.     For  this  ruined  condi- 
tion, more  faith  is  the  only  cure,  he  said ;  and, 
naturally,  as  the  Trinity  is  the  central  doctrine 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  more  faith  in  this  was 
the  recommendation  of  the  sermon.     There  are 
men  in  Spain,  however,  as  he  knew,  who    draw 
the  inference  backwards.     Since  the  Gothic  Ari- 
ans    were    suppressed    by    fire    and  sword,  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  has,  without  let  or  hin- 
drance, proclaimed  this  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
in  Spain.     If,  after  a  thousand  years,  the  result 
is  such  hostility   to   religion,  such  a   failure    in 
faith,  such  gross  and   beastly   scepticism  as  he 
well  described  in  the  outset,  may  it  not  be  that 
the  Church  has  made  a  mistake  in  its  central 
doctrine?     By  making  a  mystery  of  the  Son,  if 
he  is  the  only  means  of  revealing  the  Father,  by 
making  him  the  most  unreal  and  incomprehensi- 
ble of  beings,  may  not  the  Church  have  created 
precisely  the  irreligion  which  it  deplores?     To 
this  question,  of  course,  this  sermon,  wherever 
it  is  preached,  never  attempts  any  answer.     But 
it  certainly  occurred  to  me  that,  in  the  country 
with  which  I  am  best  acquainted,  there  is  more 


128  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

real  faith  and  more  practical  religion  than  there 
ever  was  ;  that  the  fruit  of  religion  is  to  be  found 
riper  and  more  abundant  than  in  any  period  of 
past  history;  and  that  that  country  is  precisely 
the  region  of  Christendom  where  the  least  is 
said  about  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity,  and  where, 
with  the  most  success,  Jesus  Christ  has  been 
presented  as  a  real  being  in  history,  made  in  all 
points  as  we  are  made  who  try  to  follow  him. 

It  is,  alas  !  the  fault  of  all  but  the  very  best 
preaching  that,  just  when  the  hearer  longs  for  a 
square  statement  of  truth,  or,  failing  this,  a  bit 
of  stiff  logic,  the  speaker  gives  him,  instead,  an 
outburst  of  brilliant  or  lively  rhetoric.  My  ad- 
mirable friend  the  canon,  on  this  occasion,  was 
not  above  the  failing.  But,  granting  this,  let 
me  hasten  to  add  that  the  rhetoric  was  inspiring 
and  well  founded ;  and  I  well  understood  how 
he  had  won  his  laurels  as  a  preacher.  Best  of 
all,  the  noblest  passage  of  it  was  one  with  which, 
had  he  been  wiser,  he  would  have  brought  the 
sermon  to  an  end.  After  all  this  playing  up  and 
down  the  scales,  —  after  the  explaining  that  the 
Trinity  could  not  be  explained,  and  that  he  would 
not  explain  it,  and  why  he  would  not,  which  is 
the  substance  of  this  sermon  wherever  deliv- 
ered,—  he  said  he  had  detained  us  long;  and 
yet  he  begged  for  two  words  more.  With  an  ad- 
mirable good  sense,  in  a  practice  which  belonged, 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  1 29 

I  think,  to  Chrysostom's  time,  but  has,  alas ! 
died  out  from  the  American  pulpit,  he  then  gave 
us  the  refreshment  of  a  pause  before  these  two 
important  words.  He  sat  down.  He  took  off 
his  hat.  He  wiped  his  forehead.  Those  of  us 
who  were  kneeling  changed  the  knee.  Those 
who  were  sitting  on  the  floor  changed  their  atti- 
tudes. Those  who  stood  sat  down.  When  all 
were  thus  prepared,  he  came  forward  again,  and 
to  my  delight  —  as  to  that  of  any  of  the  Ten- 
Times-One  Club — it  proved  that  the  fruit  of 
the  two  words  was  caridad,  —  "charity."  Of 
what  use  all  this  dogmatic  theology,  which  had 
occupied  us  this  morning,  as  it  had  occupied 
the  Church  for  centuries,  without  charity?  Of 
what  use  this  gorgeous  ceremonial  —  nay,  the 
most  gorgeous  ceremonial  which  man  could  con- 
ceive—  without  charity?  In  such  a  strain,  we 
had  at  last  the  reality  of  religion,  pure  and  un- 
defined ;  as  simply  and  sweetly  stated  here  under 
the  arches  of  the  cathedral  as  it  could  have  been 
in  a  Friends'  meeting  in  Narragansett.  No  ser- 
mon could  have  closed  more  grandly  or  fitly 
than  this,  had  it  closed  there. 

So  it  shall  close  there  for  the  present  reader. 
After  the  second  of  his  two  words,  he  really 
finished ;  and  with  some  more  adoration  of  the 
wafer,  the  several  orders  of  priests  filed  out,  and 
the  service  was  ended.  Of  all  this  gorgeous 
9 


130  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

ritual,  the  grandest  moment  came  then.  It  was 
when  some  sacristan,  a  hundred  yards  away, 
pushed  open  the  great  doors  of  the  cathedral. 
Even  from  that  distance  a  breath  of  fresh  air 
swept  up  the  naves  and  blew  away  the  incense. 
The  light  of  the  sun  itself,  reflected  from  pure 
white  walls,  dimmed  the  candles.  Every  one  of 
the  remaining  worshippers  drew  a  long  breath  of 
the  vital  oxygen.  And  as  thus  the  breeze  and 
light  and  joy  of  heaven  swept  in  upon  us,  the 
present  Father  revealed  himself  to  us,  his  glad 
children,  how  certain,  in  such  a  blaze  of  his 
glory  as  waits  on  us  when  we  leave  the  smoke 
and  words  and  echoes  of  antiquity,  —  how  cer- 
tain, as  we  stand  under  the  open  heavens,  that 
he  is,  and  is  at  hand  ! 

The  enormous  wealth  of  the  religious  estab- 
lishments, of  which  the  pomp  and  splendor  of 
these  cathedrals  is  the  outward  manifestation, 
has  long  attracted  the  jealousy  of  government, 
even  when  most  willing  to  protect  the  rights  and 
privileges  of  the  Church.  Any  innovation  would 
be  regarded  with  distrust ;  and,  in  fact,  I  suppose 
Spain  has  not  yet  recovered  from  the  shock  of 
a  change  made  half  a  century  ago,  when  the  real 
estate  of  the  clergy  was  sold.  The  amount  was 
so  great,  that  a  sale  all  at  once  proved  impossible. 
In  1827  their  annual  income  was  calculated  at 
a  thousand  million  reals,  or  fifty  million  dollars. 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  131 

The  revenue  of  the  kingdom  was  estimated 
at  four  hundred  million  reals,  or  twenty  million 
dollars,  of  which  it  was  said  almost  fifteen  mil- 
lions were  realized.  Of  this  sum  the  clergy 
themselves  paid  directly,  it  is  supposed,  not  less 
than  a  third,  besides  their  own  share  in  the  in- 
direct taxes,  such  as  customs,  excise,  &c,  so 
that  they  may  fairly  be  considered  as  having 
paid  half  of  the  whole  amount  collected.  The 
remainder,  or  about  seven  and  a  half  millions  of 
dollars,  was  obtained  from  the  laity;  and  sup- 
posing the  taxes  to  have  equalled  only  a  third  of 
the  revenue  (a  moderate  calculation  here),  would 
have  given  a  result  of  somewhere  about  twenty 
million  dollars  for  the  whole  lay  revenues  of  this 
kingdom,  while  those  of  the  clergy  amounted  to 
fifty. 

We  are  apt  to  think  the  clergy  of  the  Church 
of  England  comfortably  endowed.  But  in  some 
calculations  of  that  time  I  find  it  is  shown  that 
the  income  of  the  Spanish  clergy  was  three  times 
that  of  the  laity,  on  a  basis  of  calculation  which 
showed  that  the  English  laity  had  an  income  of 
thirty  times  that  of  the  clergy.  A  desire  to 
break  up  all  those  great  properties  played  its 
part  in  all  the  Spanish  revolutions.  In  1835 
the  landed  possessions  of  the  Church  were  at 
last  confiscated,  and  in  a  very  few  years  eighty 
million  dollars  worth  were  sold  for  the  benefit  of 


132  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

the  State.  Most  of  the  convents  were  sup- 
pressed, and  there  are  now  fewer  convents  in 
Spain,  in  proportion  to  the  population,  than  in 
most  countries  in  Europe. 

In  one  of  the  chapels  of  the  cathedral  are 
the  magnificent  tombs  of  Ferdinand  and  of  Isa- 
bella. Indeed,  the  chapel  is  almost  a  museum, 
so  many  curious  articles  are  there  which  actu- 
ally belonged  to  these  monarchs,  and  which  have 
been  preserved  in  memory  of  them.  It  is  a  com- 
fort to  see  and  know  the  homage  still  paid  to 
Isabella.  Not  in  vain,  indeed,  that  a  woman  is 
good  and  that  she  has  the  courage  of  her  con- 
victions. I  am  fempted  to  compare  her  with 
Elizabeth  in  England,  who  had  the  courage  of 
her  convictions  and  was  not  good.  Elizabeth's 
reign  exalted  England  to  her  highest  reputation, 
as  Isabella's  exalted  Spain.  Yet  I  do  not  think 
that  any  traveller  in  England  ever  stumbles  on 
anything  which  indicates  any  popular  memory 
of  Elizabeth  to-day.  There  are  old  ballads 
about  good  Queen  Bess ;  but  I  do  think  that 
nobody  sings  them  or  remembers  them  now, 
because  she  was  not  good.  She  was  clever  and 
bright  and  strong  and  hateful,  and  now  no- 
body loves  her.  But  Isabella  was  clever  and 
bright  and  strong  and  good,  and  everybody  in 
Spain  loves  her  and  remembers  her. 

Now,  all  through  or  over  this  desert  of  wick- 


WORSHIP  IN  SPAIN.  133 

edness  and  stupidity,  running  back  for  three 
centuries,  men  look  at  Isabella  I.,  who  tried  to 
do  good,  wanted  to  do  good,  and  on  the  whole 
succeeded. 

I  do  not  remember  at  this  moment  any  other 
instance  of  a  crowned  husband  and  wife,  both 
named  as  one  ruler,  except  that  of  William 
and  Mary.  In  that  case,  poor  Mary,  I  believe, 
always  did  what  her  warrior  husband  bade  her 
do.  Ferdinand  was  much  more  apt  to  do  what 
Isabella  thought  best  She  had  the  clearer  head 
and  much  the  better  heart  of  the  two 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ACROSS   THE   SIERRA. 

From  Granada  to  Madrid,  which  was  to  be 
our  next  home,  a  bird  would  fly  almost  exactly 
north.  He  would  cross  Andalusia,  La  Mancha, 
and  New  Castile.  But  the  railroads,  to  avoid 
the  Sierra  Rallo,  follow  the  valleys  of  the  Xenil 
and  the  Guadalquivir,  so  as  to  make,  in  fact,  for 
a  traveller  going  north,  three  sides  of  a  square 
each  sixty  or  seventy  miles  long. 

We  preferred  to  take  the  diligence  ride  from 
Granada  directly  north  to  Jaen,  which  makes  the 
fourth  side  of  this  square,  and  is  perhaps  sev- 
enty miles.  To  this  determination  I  owed  one 
of  the  pleasantest  days  of  my  life,  —  one  of  those 
golden  expeditions  upon  which  you  afterwards 
always  look  back  with  delight ;  a  day  in  which 
everything  seems  to  fit  in  with  everything,  and 
nothing  goes  wrong.  Once  for  all,  I  may  say 
that  when,  at  half-past  one,  this  charming  ride 
was  over,  I  left  the  driver's  seat  of  the  diligence 
with  profound  respect  for  Spanish  administra- 
tion.    We  Yankees  like  to  improve  on  things, 


ACROSS   THE  SIERRA.  1 35 

but  I  had  seen  no  detail  in  which  I  thought  that 
business  could  be  better  done. 

The  diligence  leaves  Granada  at  five  in  the 
morning,  that  as  much  work  as  possible  may  be 
done  in  the  cool  of  the  day.  The  amiable  prac- 
tice of  our  stage-coaches  of  driving  round  to 
pick  up  passengers  is  wholly  unknown.  You 
start  from  a  hotel,  just  as  in  Dickens's  earlier 
stories  you  started  from  the  cellar  of  the  White 
Horse  Inn.  We  had  to  breakfast  at  four  at  the 
Washington  Yrving,  that  we  might  drive  down 
in  the  old  jumble-cart  with  our  luggage.  We 
had  taken  our  seats  a  day  or  two  before.  I  sat 
with  the  driver,  called  in  Spain  the  mayoral,  of 
course  the  best  seat,  which  I  obtained  by  feeing 
the  "  chief  mate,"  called  the  zagal,  who,  strictly, 
is  entitled  to  it.  I  will  try  to  show,  as  we  go  on, 
what  became  of  him.  Every  other  seat  within 
and  without  was  occupied,  and  we  started  with 
eight  mules,  handsome  creatures,  and  full  of 
spirk.  We  started  with  perfect  punctuality,  with 
the  good  wishes  and  admiration  of  a  consider- 
able crowd  of  early  loafers.  The  sun  was  just 
up,  the  air  was  fresh  and  exhilarating,  and  the 
day,  of  course,  perfectly  clear;  so  we  said  fare- 
well, I  am  afraid  forever,  to  our  dear  Granada 
and  the  lovely  Alhambra.  We  were  yet  in  the 
thickly  built  part  of  the  town,  as  if,  say,  on 
Washington  Street  between  Franklin  and  Black- 


136  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

stone  Squares,  when  I  noticed  on  the  side  of  the 
street  a  little  wigwam  made  of  tall  plants  of 
Indian  corn.  While  I  was  wondering,  the  watch- 
man came  out,  in  a  sort  of  military  costume ;  in 
this  simple  fashion  did  he  provide  himself  with 
a  not  inconvenient  guard-room.  He  was  the 
first  of  a  series  ^of  guards,  who,  from  this  point 
to  Jaen,  appeared  every  five  kilometres,  and 
saluted  in  military  fashion,  two  at  a  station. 

At  all  the  railway  stations  you  see  such  peo- 
ple; they  have  cocked  hats,  and  are  in  mili- 
tary dress.  In  Mr.  Lathrop's  series  of  letters  in 
Harper,  describing  his  tour  through  Spain,  he 
gives,  with  thorough  humor,  the  impression, 
which  you  cannot  shake  off,  that  it  is  always  the 
same  pair  whom  you  see ;  that  they  have  run 
on  in  advance,  as  the  cat  did  before  the  King's 
carriage  in  Puss  in  Boots,  and  that  they  salute 
you  as  old  friends,  or,  perhaps,  as  skilled  detec- 
tives, who,  like  an  eyer-present  conscience,  dog 
you  behind  and  keep  on  watch  before,  wherever 
you  go  or  are.  When  I  intimated  to  a  Spanish 
friend  that  such  people  must  cost  the  treasury  a 
good  deal,  and  asked  if  they  did  not  make  one 
reason  why  accounts  did  not  balance  better  than 
they  do,  he  asked  whether  I  thought  it  better  to 
have  them  looking  round,  or  to  have  a  company 
of  brigands  poking  in  their  heads  and  pistols  at 
the  windows  of  the  diligence.    As,  in  point  of  fact, 


ACROSS   THE   SIERRA.  1 37 

travel  is  so  safe  in  Spain  now  that  even  English 
critics  allow  that  a  woman  may  go  alone,  where- 
evcr  she  pleases,  without  danger  though  with- 
out escort,  it  must  be  admitted  that  this  gens 
d'anncs  system  has  its  advantages.  I  suppose 
the  same  gentlemen  who  would  have  been  brig- 
ands sixty  years  ago  may  now  enlist  in  this 
rural  police,  whose  duties  must  be  easy  even  if 
somewhat  uneventful. 

For  an  hour  or  two  our  ride  was  across  the 
level  Vega;  like  riding  through  the  bottom- 
lands of  the  Connecticut  Valley.  And  here  I 
obtained  my  practical  knowledge  of  the  details 
of  irrigation,  of  which  I  have  before  spoken. 
The  land  is  very  fertile,  the  cultivation  very 
high.  A  good  deal  of  land  is  given  to  grapes, 
and  I  think  it  was  in  this  valley  that  I  saw  some 
tobacco.  But  the  culture  of  tobacco  is  frowned 
on  by  government,  because  they  make  money 
on  the  Cuban  tobacco,  which,  I  think,  is  a  mo- 
nopoly in  their  hands.  The  night  dews  had 
laid  the  dust,  and  we  bowled  along  perfectly 
steadily  at  the  even  rate  of  nine  miles  an  hour, 
the  mules  always  on  a  sharp,  vigorous  trot. 
About  once  an  hour  we  took  a  new  team  of 
mules,  stopping  generally  at  what  our  West- 
ern friends  would  call  "  the  most  ramshackled 
hole  that  you  ever  did  see."  No  one  of  these 
post-houses  was  like  another;   but,  generally,  a 


138  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

long  stone  building  ran  along  close  by  the  road- 
way. Mules  came  out  of  one  door,  and  loafers, 
children,  and  women  out  of  another.  Every- 
body was  delighted  that  the  diligence  had  come. 
Everybody  assisted  in  the  preparations  for  its 
speedy  departure.  If  you  wanted  a  mug  of 
water  for  the  ladies,  everybody  was  glad  to  fur- 
nish it;  yet  you  were  left  with  the  impression 
that  nobody  ever  drank  water  before  or  would 
again ;  that  you  had  introduced  a  queer  Yankee 
notion  into  the  place,  and  had  broken  the  ripple 
of  Andalusian  life.  I  took  it  into  my  head  that 
I  would  have  a  lanyard  to  my  hat  to  keep  it 
from  blowing  off.  The  general  and  frank  inter- 
est of  all  parties  was  delightful.  The  messages 
sent,  the  hurried  interlocutions,  which  resulted 
in  the  discovery  of  a  bit  of  string  two  feet  long, 
were  most  good-natured.  Still,  I  clambered  up 
to  my  seat,  with  the  uneasy  feeling  that  I  had 
acted  the  part  of.  a  blustering  Englishman,  in 
insisting  in  introducing  such  foreign  airs  on  an 
innocent  rural  population,  till  now  quite  igno- 
rant of  the  innovation. 

The  harness  is  all  rope,  strong  and  well  fit- 
ted for  its  use.  The  mules  are  generally  har- 
nessed two  abreast,  though  once  or  twice  we 
had  three  in  the  first  rank,  with  two  poles.  The 
leaders  are  directed  by  a  postilion.  He  does 
not  mount  till  they  are  at  full   speed.     It  is  a 


ACROSS   THE  SIERRA.  1 39 

point  of  pride  to  run  at  their  side,  and  to  spring 
up  when  the  mule  is  in  full  motion.  The  "chief 
mate,"  as  I  called  him  above,  sat  on  the  thor- 
ough-brace, beneath  my  seat,  which  was  prop- 
erly his,  at  the  side  of  the  driver.  But  he  was 
not  there  a  great  deal.  He  varied  his  some- 
what cramped  attitude  by  running  by  the  side 
of  the  carriage  and  of  the  mules.  He  had  a 
long  whip,  with  which  he  touched  anyone  whom 
he  or  the  driver  thought  negligent.  The  driv- 
ing, indeed,  was  conducted  in  a  sort  of  caucus, 
in  which  my  admirable  friend  on  the  right,  the 
driver  proper,  this  chief  mate,  whose  official 
name  I  did  not  know,  and  the  postilion,  held 
equal  parts,  although  the  rank  of  each  was 
firmly  maintained.  I  mean  that  there  was  a 
running  conversation,  all  the  way,  as  to  the  suc- 
cess and  prospects  of  the  journey,  and  as  to  the 
condition  and  performance  of  the  mules.  On 
our  seat  we  kept  a  store  of  Macadam  stones, 
with  which  from  time  to  time  the  driver  hit  head 
or  haunch,  as  he  chose,  of  a  mule  who  needed 
reminding.  One  driver  preferred  stones  as  big 
as  a  peach,  another  had  little  ones  not  bigger 
than  a  nut. 

The  whole  staff  smoked  all  the  time  that  they 
could  spare.  So  soon  as  we  started  from  a 
post-house,  the  driver  handed  me  the  ribbons, 
and  I  drove  for  a  (ew  minutes.     This  was  to 


140  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

give  him  a  chance  to  make  his  cigarette.  He 
had  the  tobacco,  all  ready,  in  one  pocket  and 
the  paper  in  another.  When  the  cigarette  was 
made,  I  would  furnish  my  match-box,  he  would 
take  off  his  hat,  and,  with  an  ingenuity  which 
I  have  never  seen  rivalled  anywhere  else,  he 
would  light  the. cigarette  while  we  were  in  full 
motion.  The  chief  mate  would  then  climb  up 
from  his  lair  below,  where  he  had  been  making 
his  cigarette,  and  take  a  light  for  it.  The  pas- 
sengers on  the  seat  above  us  did  likewise,  and 
we  were  thus  ready  for  the  rest  of  the  stage, 
having  occupied  perhaps  half  a  quarter  of  the 
time  in  preparation.  When  our  end  of  the 
team  was  all  well  smoking,  the  postilion  would 
jump  off  the  leader,  run  back  and  get  a  light, 
run  forward  and  mount  again  while  the  mules 
were  at  their  regular  pace;  not  but  I  have 
seen  a  postilion  strike  a  match  and  light  a  cigar 
under  the  cover  of  his  hat  while  he  was  in  the 
saddle  and  in  full  motion.  Indeed,  one  delight 
of  this  charming  day  was  the  feeling  that  at 
last  in  my  life  I  saw  two  daily  duties  perfectly 
done,  that  of  the  postilion  and  that  of  the  coach- 
man. 

The  amount  of  conversation  necessary  would 
stagger  the  belief  of  taciturn  readers  like  those 
who  follow  these  lines.  I  do  not  remember  that 
the  mules  had  separate  names,  but  we  addressed 


ACROSS   THE   SIERRA.  141 

to  them  a  running  fire  of  pleas,  requests,  sug- 
gestions, explanations,  exhortations,  encourage- 
ments, warnings,  and  possible  adjurations,  — 
though  of  this  last  I  am  not  sure, — both  in 
Andalusian  and,  oddly  enough,  in  Arabic.  Any 
language  that  they  would  understand  would 
answer,  so  it  kept  them  to  their  work.  To  say 
the  truth,  I  never  saw  creatures  who  needed 
'such  prodding  less.  They  kept  on,  pressed 
hard  on  the  collar,  at  a  relentless  pace,  as  eager 
to  be  at  the  post-house  as  we  were  to  have 
them.  But  on  the  part  of  our  caucus,  as  I 
called  it,  of  three,  although  they  all  did  this  thing 
every  day  of  their  lives,  there  was  that  sort  of 
eagerness  which  you  see  in  children  going  to  a 
circus  for  the  first  time, —  as  if  on  that  particu- 
lar day  the  doors  would  be  closed  earlier  than 
usual ;  as  if  we  might  find  the  bridge  down  at 
Jaen ;  or  as  if  we  were  all  bridegrooms  going 
to  be  married.  And  this  was  accompanied  by 
good  nature  almost  ludicrous.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber to  have  heard  an  angry  word  spoken  all  that 
day.  There  was  one  occasion  almost  critical,  in 
which  a  vicious  mare  was  brought  out  as  one  of 
the  leaders.  The  creature  refused  to  start  so 
obstinately  that  the  whole  team  was  once  and 
again  in  confusion,  —  one  mule  was  overthrown, 
—  and  I  confess  I  thought  another  horse  would 
have  to  be  substituted  for  her.     But  the  whole 


142  SEVEN   SPANISH   CITIES. 

council,  which  included  the  grooms  and  the 
keeper  of  the  post-house,  maybe  a  dozen  per- 
sons, managed  the  mad  creature  without  the 
slightest  show  of  hot  temper.  You  might  have 
thought  she  was  a  trout  who  would  not  bite,  so 
quiet  were  they  in  their  treatment  of  her,  yet  so 
determined.  When  she  did  start,  the  postilion 
ran  by  her  side  a  mile  before  the  wild  creature 
would  give  him  any  chance  to  get  on ;  all 
which  he  took  more  quietly  than  a  boatman 
would  take  a  breeze  of  wind.  It  helped  the 
carriage  along,  and  that  was  enough  for  him. 
When  he  was  ready  and  she  was  ready,  he  took 
his  place  on  her  back,  and  we  all  went  on  as  if 
nothing  had  happened. 

We  are  so  determined  to  associate  with  Spain 
the  ideas  of  bandits,  contrabandists,  guerillas, 
and  pronunciamentos,  and  with  Andalusia  the 
memories  of  Gitanos  and  Gitanas,  of  Moors  and 
sarabands  and  jaleos,  that  I,  for  one,  was  wholly 
unprepared  to  find  these  simple,  rather  grave 
people,  in  the  management  of  mules  and  horses 
and  diligences.  The  postilions  had  a  little  more 
of  the  air  of  the  opera  than  these  quiet  Yankee- 
like men  who  held  the  places  of  captain  and 
mate.  But  the  whole  enterprise  gave  to  me  a 
good  deal  the  idea  of  a  well-conducted  cruise 
for  fish,  in  which,  under  their  auspices,  we  were 
going  on  shares. 


ACROSS   THE  SIERRA.  143 

I  have  not  yet  mentioned  the  duties  of  the 
chief  mate,  and  I  find  it  difficult  to  describe 
them.  But  it  is  quite  certain  that  there  were 
duties,  and  that  we  should  not  have  pulled 
through  to  Jaen  had  he  not  been  there  to  dis- 
charge them.  Where  a  driver  of  a  street-car 
stops  the  car  and  goes  forward  to  adjust  the 
harness,  the  chief  mate  did  it  without  stopping, 
while  all  parties  were  on  the  trot  or  the  run. 
In  any  exigency  where  whipping  was  thought 
necessary  by  the  caucus  which  directed,  he  ran 
to  the  guilty  mule,  and  inflicted  the  chastise- 
ment, all  still  rushing  on  at  this  preordained 
pace  of  nine  miles  an  hour.  It  is  difficult  for 
me,  in  writing  of  this  afterwards,  to  imagine  that 
a  man  can  smoke  while  running  a  mile  at  that 
pace ;  but  the  impression  is  strong  on  me  that 
everybody  smoked  all  the  time.  It  was  nothing 
to  have  him  disappear.  It  was  not  that  the 
wheel  had  passed  over  him,  so  that  he  was  left  a 
lifeless  trunk  on  the  road ;  it  was  only  that  he 
had  let  the  coach  pass  him,  that  he  might  run 
forward  on  the  other  side  outside  the  off-leader, 
and  give  to  him  a  bit  of  his  mind.  When  the 
necessary  chastisement  had  been  inflicted,  then 
he  would  again  let  the  coach  pass  him,  and  re- 
appear on  his  nest  on  the  thorough-brace. 

The  strip  of  what  I  called  bottom-land  lasted 
for  about  one  hour.     Then  we  began  to  rise  the 


144  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

sharp  ascent  of  the  Sierra  Rallo,  as  I  find  it 
named  on  the  maps.  Nobody  called  it  so  on  the 
spot,  whom  I  heard.  Perhaps  this  is  as  a  con- 
ductor on  Tom  Scott's  railroad  might  not  speak 
of  the  Appalachian  mountains. 

Here  was  another  sight  of  that  admirable  en- 
gineering for  which  the  Spanish  officers  have 
won  deserved  reputation,  as  applied  to  the  build- 
ing of  common  (or  uncommon)  roads.  Switzer- 
land has  given  to  the  world  what  are  called 
models  in  bold  zigzag  roads,  crossing  high 
mountains  at  an  even  and  low  grade.  But  there 
is  nothing  in  Switzerland  which  I  have  ever  seen 
which  exceeds  the  skill  of  the  lines  of  this  road, 
or  which  is  kept  in  better  order.  So  we  steadily 
kept  our  relentless  trot,  though  we  were  pulling 
up  a  mountain  range,  where  we  left  far  behind 
us  the  agriculture  of  the  Vegas  and  found  our- 
selves, at  last,  among  small  cedars  and  a  kind  of 
stunted  wild  olive-trees.  At  every  five  kilome- 
tres or  so,  one  or  two  soldiers  stepped  out  from 
their  little  house  and  saluted  us.  We  touched 
our  hats  and  hurried  on.  The  population  be- 
came very  sparse,  and  there  were  post-houses, 
where  it  was  clear  enough  that  no  one  would 
have  lived  but  to  keep  the  mules  and  be  ready 
for  the  diligence  and  other  travellers. 

After  we  had  crossed  the  ridge  by  a  descent, 
which  seemed  to  me  as  sharp,  we  followed  down 


ACROSS  THE  SIERRA.  145 

the  valley  of  the  river  which  passes  Jaen.  It  is 
studded  full  with  memorials  of  the  raids  of  the 
old  Moorish  wars.  A  castle  here,  a  broken 
bridge  there,  or  a  name  familiar  from  Irving's 
Granada,  came  in  from  point  to  point,  to  re- 
mind us  of  the  past,  in  sharp  contrast  with 
the  admirable  road  over  which  we  bowled 
along,  where,  perhaps,  those  old  marauders 
worked  their  way  painfully  on  their  hands  and 
knees. 

One  picture  stands  out  in  my  memory  of  a 
little  hamlet  with  church  and  post-house  and  a 
single  narrow  street  of  houses,  built  as  close  to 
each  other  as   if  they  had  been   in  Salutation 
Street  at  the  North  End  of  Boston.     I  stepped 
into  a  shop  of  general  trade  and  seized  some  lit- 
tle loaves  of  bread,  offering  almost  at  random 
such  copper  coins  as  I  supposed  might  answer 
in  payment.      The  dealer  picked  out  what  he 
liked,  and  I  carried  my  prize  in  triumph  to  the 
ladies,  to  serve  as  their  almucrzo  No.  2.     Then  I 
was  to  find  something  to  drink.     We  were  pro- 
vided with  admirable  little  travelling  jars  for  such 
purposes,  made  nowhere  but  in  Spain  and  Mex- 
ico, I  think.     I  ran  to  the  picturesque  fountain, 
and  the  matrons  standing  there  at  their  daily 
gossip  and  work  readily  filled  for  me  again  and 
again.     When  I  returned  for  the  last  time  and 
gave  them  "a  thousand  thanks"  in  the  pretty 


146  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

Spanish  phrase,  I  also  gave  a  half-cent  to  the 
lady  who  had  been  most  active.  Really,  she  was 
as  much  amused  as  any  leader  of  the  fashion  in 
Boston  would  have  been  had  I  offered  her  a  half- 
cent  on  bidding  good-by  at  the  end  of  an  evening 
party.  She  showed  it  to  the  others,  and  they  all 
laughed  merrily,  and  I  was  fain  to  laugh  as  well 
as  I  could  as  I  retired.  It  was  not  my  first  nor 
my  last  lesson  to  teach  me  that  I  was  not  in  a 
land  of  castes  and  vassals,  where  any  man  was 
willing  to  debase  himself  for  a  fee,  but  that 
we  were,  socially  and  politically,  equals  among 
equals  in  a  land  where  everybody  was  willing  to 
bear  his  brother's  burdens. 

This  matchless  road  over  which  we  sped  is 
an  addition  made  within  the  last  half-century  to 
the  resources  of  the  country  and  the  comfort  of 
travellers.  At  every  fine  bridge,  or  at  the  open- 
ing of  every  tunnel,  an  inscription  tells  the  trav- 
eller that  it  is  the  work  of  Her  Majesty  Queen 
Isabella  II.  I  wish  I  thought  that  she  in  person 
had  any  more  to  do  with  it  than  I  had.  But  it 
does  mark,  and  many  other  things  do,  that  in 
her  reign,  poor  creature  though  she  be,  the 
regeneration  of  Spain  began.  Somebody  drove 
these  grand  roads  through,  and,  as  is  the  habit 
of  monarchies,  she  bears  away  the  honors. 

As  we  approached  Jaen  the  country  opened 
out  from  the  narrow  mountain  pass  into  another 


ACROSS    THE  SIERRA.  147 

bit  of  what  I  have  called  "bottom-land,"  in  a 
convenient  Western  phrase.  They  showed  the 
marks  of  tremendous  inundations,  as  men 
would  do  if  you  were  crossing  the  Hartford 
meadows.  The  sun  was  high  by  this  time,  and 
the  dust  was  plenty,  and  we  were  glad  when  the 
towers  and  spires  of  Jaen,  a  most  picturesque 
city,  appeared,  rising  on  a  sort  of  ledge  which 
surmounts  and  once  commanded  the  valley. 

There  is  a  feeling  of  surprise  which  an  Ameri- 
can never  gets  over  in  the  sudden  transition 
from  open  country  into  what  is  or  has  been  a 
walled  town.  You  are  prepared  for  Boston, 
when  you  co"me  into  it  from  whatever  direction, 
by  miles  upon  miles  of  suburbs,  and  so  of  almost 
any  American  city ;  but  in  these  historical  cit- 
ies the  walls  meant  defence  and  safety,  while  to 
live  outside  the  walls  meant  almost  as  certainly 
insult  and  injury.  At  this  day,  therefore,  the 
Spanish  government  attempts  to  persuade  peo- 
ple to  live  at  a  distance  from  towns  by  reducing 
their  taxes  by  a  sliding  scale,  in  proportion  to 
such  distance.  If  you  live  five  kilometres  from 
a  town,  a  third  of  your  land  tax  is  taken  off;  at 
eight  kilometres,  two-thirds  ;  and  at  ten  kilome- 
tres, the  whole.  Such,  I  think,  are  the  propor- 
tions, writing  from  memory.  I  am  certain  that 
such  is  the  principle  of  the  provision. 

Jaen  is  a  capital  of  a  province  of  the  same 


148  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

name  of  three  or  four  hundred  thousand  people. 
In  the  Moorish  times  it  was  a  rich  and  indepen- 
dent kingdom.  I  learn  from  Malte-Brun  that  it 
is  divided  into  five  districts.  When  seen  from  a 
distance,  it  looks  like  a  town  of  forty  thousand  in- 
habitants, though  the  population^  hardly  reaches 
half  that  number.  This  illusion  is  due  to  the 
sight  of  several  large  buildings,  a  magnificent 
cathedral,  built  in  the  form  of  a  Latin  cross,  on 
the  site  of  an  ancient  mosque,  fourteen  con- 
vents, twelve  parish  churches,  and  several  hos- 
pitals. 

The  streets  are  wider  and  more  direct  than 
we  were  used  to  in  these  southern  cities,  and  the 
whole  aspect  of  the  place  is  pleasant,  though 
very  quiet. 

Some  other  cities,  of  which  Ave  saw  a  part 
of  one  in  the  distance,  are  Ubeda,  Baeza,  and 
Martos.  Of  these,  here  are  some  guide-book 
narratives :  — 

Ubeda,  an  Arabic  town  between  the  Guadal- 
quivir and  the  Guadalimar,  stands  on  a  decliv- 
ity surrounded  by  mountains  and  mountain 
passes;  it  has  its  woollen  manufactures,  and 
carries  on  a  considerable  trade  in  horses,  which 
are  much  valued  throughout  Spain.  Baeza,  the 
ancient  Beatia,  rises  on  a  height ;  the  surround- 
ing country  is  said  to  be  very  healthy. 

Martos,  supposed  to  be  Tucci  Colo7iia,\s  com- 


ACROSS   THE  SIERRA.  1 49 

manded  by  a  very  high  rock.  From  this  rock 
Ferdinand  the  Fourth  threw  two  brothers  named 
Carvagal,  who  were  accused,  although  without 
any  justice,  of  having  murdered  a  knight  of  the 
family  of  Benarides.  The  brothers  in  vain  de- 
clared their  innocence,  and,  according  to  the 
local  tradition,  while  they  were  rolling  from 
stone  to  stone,  a  voice  was  heard  calling  to  Fer- 
dinand to  appear  on  a  certain  day  at  the  judg- 
ment seat  of  God.  On  that  day  Ferdinand  died, 
at  Jaen. 


These  sketches  are  not  written  to  tell  what  we 
had  for  dinner.  But  one  would  be  a  brute  to 
say  nothing  of  the  pretty  welcome  at  the  post- 
house  at  Jaen,  where  we  landed  from  the  dili- 
gence after  our  ride.  And  if  I  can  give  a 
notion  of  the  readiness  to  oblige  which  every 
one  showed,  it  will,  in  a  fashion,  explain  to  the 
reader  why  we  look  back  on  Spain  so  happily. 

I  am  disposed  to  think,  from  the  guide-books 
and  other  authorities,  that  there  are  larger  and 
grander  hotels  in  Jaen  than  the  post-house. 
But  the  people  who  helped  us  down  from  our 
airy  perches  and  explained  about  the  trains 
seemed  cheerful  and  hospitable.  We  were  dusty 
and  hot;    the   house  was  neat  and  cool.     Who 


150  SEVEN  SPANISH    CITIES. 

were  we,  to  go  hunting  for  Delmonico's  or  the 
Vendome  of  Jaen,  if  indeed  any  such  place  there 
be?  Following  that  suggestive  scripture  which 
directs  us  not  to  go  from  house  to  house,  we 
e'en  stayed  where  we  were.  The  traps  were 
brought  from  the  street  and  placed  in  the  cool 
patio,  if,  by  good  luck,  the  loyal  reader  remem- 
bers what  that  is.  A  room  was  found  for  the 
ladies  and  another  for  me.  A  pitcher  of  water 
and  a  bowl  and  a  towel  were  brought  to  mine,  a 
little  as  if  they  were  unusual  luxuries,  I  confess ; 
and  then  we  found  ourselves  assembled  in  a 
dark  cool  room  on  the  ground  floor,  a  room 
without  windows  which  we  should  call  windows, 
but  opening  upon  the  patio  by  large  open  doors, 
or  what  I  think  our  Saxon  ancestors  would  have 
called  "  wind-doors. "  Little  wind,  however,  I 
fancy,  ever  crosses  that  secluded  patio  or  tries 
the  passage  of  those  doorways. 

The  whole  thing  throws  you  back  eighteen 
hundred  years ;  or  if  you  choose  to  stop  on  the 
green  settees  in  the  old  Latin  school,  with  dear 
Mr.  Dillaway  explaining  to  you  his  own  book  of 
Roman  Antiquities,  it  throws  you  back  about 
fifty  years.  For,  simply,  you  are  in  what  the  Ro- 
mans called  a  triclinium,  and  outside  is  what  they 
called  an  atrium  ;  and  the  whole  business  of  the 
atrium  and  the  impluvium  is  here  as  clear  as  in 
most  school-books  it  is  unintelligible.     And  if  the 


ACROSS   THE  SIERRA.  15 1 

Beckers  and  Mansfields,  who  write  the  books, 
had  condescended  to  come  to  Spain,  when  they 
did  go  to  Pompeii,  they  could  see  people  living 
very  much  as  the  woman  lived  who  made  the 
salad  in  Virgil's  Culex,  if,  as  I  believe,  it  were 
Virgil's.  Instead  of  that  they  go  to  Pompeii, 
where  the  wooden  parts  of  the  buildings  are 
very  much  charred,  and  the  people  who  lived  in 
them  are  not  now  able  to  explain  their  methods 
of  living.  Why  Roman  architecture  should  be 
better  preserved  in  Spain  than  in  Italy,  this 
deponent  sayeth  not,  because  he  does  not  know. 

Let  the  loyal  reader  understand,  then,  that  a 
triclinium  is  a  dining-room,  and  that  we  were  in 
one. 

Neat  napkins  and  cloth,  neat  glass  and  plates, 
cool  fruit,  fresh  celery  and  the  rest,  and  such 
willing,  cheerful  attendance !  One  could  dis- 
pense with  a  printed  menu,  and  could  be  satis- 
fied with  only  five  courses.  For  one,  I  do  not 
know  whether  the  meal  were  a  late  almnerzo  or 
an  early  comida.  I  was  hungry,  and  ate;  anci 
that  was  the  principal  affair. 

As  for  the  cathedral  of  Jaen,  we  took  it  on 
trust.  I  have  no  doubt  it  is  all  that  Malte-Brun 
says  it  is,  and  very  possibly  more. 

Another  jumble-cart  to  the  station,  and  then  a 
short  ride  northward,  by  a  somewhat  broken- 
winded    railway,   to   the   great  Northern   Line, 


152  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

where  we  were  to  be  picked  up  by  an  express 
train  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  adjective  broken- 
winded  does  not  apply  in  any  sort  to  the  loco- 
motive, which  did  its  work  very  well,  and  was, 
I  dare  say,  of  good  English  build ;  but  it  at- 
tempts to  convey  that  quality  of  uncertainty  and 
general  indifference  to  the  object  possible,  which 
belongs  to  any  enterprise  which  succeeds  only 
partially  in  its  objects,  and  certainly  does  not 
make  frequent  dividends.  A  first-class  car  is 
always  the  same  thing,  as  far  as  my  experience 
in  Europe  goes ;  and  I  always  find  it  easy  to 
make  my  travel  fast  enough,  by  the  simple  plan 
of  imagining  the  kilometres  to  be  miles.  In 
point  of  brute  fact,  as  this  reader  ought  to  know, 
a  kilometre  is  about  394-5 28ths  of  a  mile.  But 
who  cares  for  the  mere  fact,  when  he  can  fill  in 
the  short  mile  with  the  stores  of  Spanish  fancy. 
Arrived  at  the  trunk  line,  we  had  an  hour  or 
two  to  spend  at  the  station,  as  so  many  other 
passengers  had.  The  unfailing  sketch-books 
appeared,  and  there  was  no  lack  of  resources. 
There  were  hens  to  feed  with  bits  of  biscuit,  shy 
children  to  tempt  with  preserved  ginger,  sugared 
water  at  a  half-cent  a  glass  to  sip  for  refresh- 
ment, and  groups  wildly  picturesque  to  be  pre- 
served for  after  compositions,  if  only  the  flying 
pencil  could  preserve  them  before  they  dissolved 
themselves  away. 


ACROSS   THE   SIERRA.  1 53 

A  stone's-throw  from  the  road  was  what  would 
have  been  a  shanty  here,  or  in  France,  I  suppose, 
a  chient/,  if,  as  I  have  always  suspected,  our 
Irish  word  "  shanty"  meant,  originally,  a  "  ken- 
nel," or  hut  for  the  canaille.  In  Spain  the  hut 
was  made  of  corn-stalks.  Whether  no  one  lived 
in  it  in  winter,  or  whether  in  winter  it  is  not 
cold  there,  I  do  not  know.  Nor  do  I  know  what 
clothes  its  inmates  wear  in  winter ;  but  in  June, 
when  the  weather  is  warm  in  the  edge  of  Anda- 
lusia, there  appeared  from  it  first  a  young  gen- 
tleman in  the  costume  he  was  born  in,  then 
another  in  a  picturesque  shirt,  both  as  indiffer- 
ent to  their  lack  of  apparel  as  were  the  hens 
and  the  dogs  with  which  they  were  playing. 
It  was  the  costume  which  the  climate  suggested, 
and  this  was  enough.  When,  after  an  hour, 
the  mother  returned  from  some  out-door  work, 
which,  like  most  Spanish  women,  she  had  been 
engaged  in,  —  so  far  are  Mrs.  Howe's  and  Mrs. 
Blackwell's  views  carried  out  in  this  happy  coun- 
try,—  she  drove  the  naked  children  before  her 
into  the  house,  and  we  saw  them  no  more. 

Such  freedom  was,  I  suppose,  Roman,  and  it 
accounts  for  the  simplicity  of  costume  in  the 
classical  gems  and  statues. 

At  last  the  train  comes  sweeping  along.  Ho  ! 
for  Madrid.  A  sunset  which  one  will  always 
remember,  but  of  course  can  never  describe ! 


154  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

So  we  swept  through  La  Mancha,  looking  vainly 
after  dark  for  Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza. 
At  Alcazar  they  waked  us  after  midnight,  and, 
just  as  we  had  done  three  weeks  before,  we  ate 
or  drank  our  chocolate,  and  bought  our  knives 
of  the  man  who  sells  them  for  murderers.  The 
sun  rises  early  in  June,  and  by  daylight,  a  lit- 
tle after  four,  we  could  see  Madrid  on  our 
horizon. 


CHAPTER  X. 

MADRID. 

We  passed  not  far  from  a  little  church  which 
is  said  to  have  been  built  at  the  geographical 
centre  of  Spain.  It  is  three  or  four  miles  from 
the  city.  How  they  find  the  geographical  centre 
I  do  not  know.  It  is  one  of  the  most  delicate  of 
geometric  problems. 

Between  five  and  six  we  arrived  at  the  station, 
which  is  quite  out  of  town,  and  were  carried, 
bag  and  baggage,  through  silent  streets  on  a 
Sunday  morning  to  the  Hotel  Russia.  Here  I 
had  seen  the  landlord  when  I  was  in  Madrid  be- 
fore, and  from  Seville  and  Granada  I  had  writ- 
ten engaging  rooms,  which  he  had  assured  me 
should  be  ready  when  I  wrote.  At  the  hotel, 
alas !  this  morning,  no  one  was  stirring.  With 
great  difficulty  a  porter  was  found  who  found 
the  landlord,  and  it  then  proved  that  he  had  re- 
ceived no  letter  and  that  he  had  made  no  provi- 
sion for  us.  It  is  not  what  we  call  a  hotel,  but 
virtually  an  apartment  house,  where  we  had 
promised  ourselves  something  like  home  life 
while  we  stayed. 


156  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

Everybody  apologized;  but  all  were  quite 
sure  that  we  should  be  well  pleased  with  the 
apartments  at  the  Hotel  Something  Else,  to 
which  accordingly  we  jumbled  in  the  omnibus, 
which  is  one  of  a  class  which  has  been  suffi- 
ciently described. 

But  here  they  were  no  more  awake  than  at  the 
other  house.  The  apartments  were  entirely  un- 
satisfactory, and  I  was  now  in  despair.  I  was 
about  to  go  to  the  great  Hotel  de  la  Paz,  where 
we  had  been  before,  to  spend  Sunday,  and  thence 
begin  the  hunt  for  lodgings,  when,  as  if  he  had 
been  an  angel  from  heaven,  appeared  on  the 
sidewalk  the  excellent  Ricci. 

"  Was  the  senor  in  search  of  lodgings?" 

That  was  exactly  what  the  sefior  was  in  search 
of. 

"  Did  the  senor  wish  the  meals  for  his  party 
provided  with  the  lodgings?" 

That  also  was  the  wish  of  the  senor's  heart, 
and  expressed  itself  in  indifferent  Castilian. 

If,  then,  the  sefior  would  direct  the  driver  of 
the  jumble-cart  to  carry  the  ladies  only  a  limited 
stone's-throw,  really  a  distance  so  small  that 
the  ladies  might  walk,  were  not  the  jumble-cart 
there  with  the  luggage,  friend  Ricci  was  sure  that 
his  lodgings,  which  were  all  ready  for  travellers, 
would  meet  the  exact  wishes  of  the  senor  and  the 
ladies. 


MADRID.  157 

Well, —  the  whole  suggestion  was  so  absurd, — 
it  was  so  unlikely  that  this  particular  man,  who 
in  a  desolate  street,  before  the  town  was  alive, 
had  seen  us  drive  up  to  a  desolate  hotel,  should 
be  anything  but  a  sharper ;  it  was  so  grossly  im- 
probable that  the  quarters  he  had  to  show  should 
be  other  than  noisome,  if,  indeed,  the  whole 
were  not  a  den  of  thieves,  that  I  was  at  first 
disposed  to  dismiss  him  and  his,  with  any  Cas- 
tilian  expression  which  might  mean  that  he  had 
best  tell  so  preposterous  a  story  to  any  marines 
of  his  acquaintance.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
seemed  idle  not  to  "  try  the  adventure,"  as  we 
were  in  search  of  adventures.  The  grumbling 
coachman,  the  porter,  even  the  people  at  the 
Hotel  Something  Else  joined  in  eulogies  of 
Ricci's  character  and  position,  which,  as  it  after- 
wards proved,  he  wholly  deserved.  I  entered 
the  omnibus  once  more.  A  minute  brought  us 
to  the  excellent  Ricci's.  Five  minutes  more 
showed  that  the  apartments,  though  not  palatial, 
were  sufficient,  and,  before  half  an  hour  was 
over,  we  were  comfortably  at  home  in  the  rooms 
which  we  occupied  all  through  our  stay  in 
Madrid. 

Whether  it  is  the  custom  in  Madrid  for  lodg- 
ing-house keepers  to  stand  at  the  corners  of 
the  street  looking  for  lodgers,  as  a  man  might 
stand   at   a  pool   in  Mad    River,  looking  for  a 


158  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

trout  below  a  shady  bank,  and  whether  they 
usually  obtain  their  customers  by  these  personal 
interviews,  I  do  not  know.  Maybe  such  is  their 
custom.  Maybe  it  is  the  custom  in  other  cities. 
Possibly  it  is  the  custom  in  Boston,  where  I 
never  have  had  to  engage  lodgings  for  myself. 
There  is  a  certain  convenience  about  the  plan, 
when  it  works  as  well  as  it  did  in  our  case,  par- 
ticularly in  a  country  where  the  postal  arrange- 
ments fail  as  often  as  they  do  in  Spain.  I  came 
to  have  a  thorough  respect  for  Ricci, — whom  I 
have  called  "  the  excellent,"  —  as  a  man  who 
was  honest,  not  above  his  business,  and  under- 
stood it  very  well. 


From  this  moment  our  expedition  involved 
regular  hours  and  work.  For  me,  the  archives ; 
for  the  ladies,  the  galleries.  These  public  offi- 
ces —  that  is  what  they  all  are  —  are  opened 
with  great  liberality ;  of  course  at  certain  speci- 
fied hours,  with  which  one  has  to  comply.  I  do 
not  know  what  are  the  Spanish  Civil  Service 
regulations.  I  do  know  that  they  have  very 
civil  men  on  duty,  and  very  intelligent  ones 
withal.  The  ladies  must  give  their  own  results 
of  work  in  the  galleries ;  and,  in  some  other 
form,  I  must  give  the  result  of  mine  in  various 


MADRID.  159 

archive  rooms.  It  may  be  of  use  to  some- 
body else  if  I  tell  here  what  collections  there 
are. 

The  government  has  made  two  or  three  ef- 
forts, from  time  to  time,  to  collect  its  treasures 
for  American  history,  and  to  arrange  them. 
Every  scholar  knows  what  are  the  dangers  of 
such  efforts.  Lacon  says  of  newly  converted 
saints,  that  they  are  like  newly  made  roads ; 
that  the  eventual  result  may  be  an  improve- 
ment, but  that,  at  the  moment  of  transition,  the 
new  result  is  not  more  agreeable  to  the  traveller 
or  the  bystander  than  the  state  of  things  exist- 
ing before.  I  have  had  a  similar  impression 
when  I  was  in  a  public  library,  where  the  new 
librarian  had  destroyed  the  old  arrangement  and 
had  not  yet  ordered  his  books  in  a  new  one ; 
and  to  say  truth,  in  a  changing  world,  this  is 
often  the  condition  of  a  public  library. 

The  American  papers  in  Spain  have  been 
moved  about  a  good  deal  in  this  way,  and  there 
is  some  confusion  in  consequence.  But  there 
are  scholars  of  the  first  rank  who  have  acquaint- 
ed themselves  with  the  Law  of  the  Instrument, 
and  I  found  no  jealousy  among  these  ge.ntle- 
men,  but  the  most  eager  willingness  to  facilitate 
research. 

The  great  collection  at  Simancas,  not  a 
great  way  from  Valladolid,  was  begun  in  1566, 


160  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

when  they  had  begun  to  find  out  the  priceless 
value  of  everything  relating  to  America.  As 
one  feature  of  Napoleon's  conquest  of  Spain, 
this  great  collection,  or  a  large  part  of  it,  was 
carried  to  Paris.  Even  when  other  spoils  were 
returned,  a  part  of  it  remained  there,  and  it  was 
only  with  difficulty  that  it  was  obtained  again. 

From  this  collection  and  others  a  considera- 
ble part  has  been  transferred  to  Seville,  where 
the  department  of  the  Indies  for  a  long  time 
held  its  seat. 

Meanwhile,  each  department  at  Madrid  (as 
those  of  War  and  of  Marine  especially)  has  its 
share  of  documents,  belonging  to  its  own  ser- 
vice, which  have  never  been  transferred  to  either 
of  these  great  collections  ;  or,  having  been  trans- 
ferred there,  have  found  their  way  back  again. 
I  was  not  able  to  work  at  the  Library  of  the 
War  Department.  But  in  the  Hydrographical 
Bureau  I  found  admirable  catalogues  and  the 
most  courteous  and  intelligent  assistance. 

The  Royal  Library  occupies  I  know  not  how 
many  elegant  rooms  on  the  first  floor  of  the  pal- 
ace. I  think  it  must  be  the  most  elegant  large 
library  in  the  world.  It  contains  between  one 
and  two  hundred  thousand  books,  which  I 
shall  best  describe  if  I  ask  the  reader  to  imag- 
ine that  for  two  hundred  years  an  intelligent 
librarian   has  been  buying   and   binding   hand- 


MADRID.  l6l 

somcly,  year  by  year,  for  an  intelligent  king,  an 
average  of  seven  hundred  books  a  year,  of  the 
most  interesting  publications  of  Europe,  and,  in 
these  latter  years,  of  America.  In  the  admirable 
Bibliographical  Room  I  was  well  pleased,  when, 
to  answer  a  question  of  mine,  the  accomplished 
chief  turned,  as  if  to  the  most  handy  authority, 
to  the  well-known  Boston  Library  Catalogue  of 
the  Ticknor  collection. 

The  National  Library  is  much  larger  than  the 
Royal  Library,  "which  is,  in  fact,  the  private 
library  of  the  palace.  Of  its  value  as  a  collec- 
tion I  cannot  speak,  but  they  had  many  more 
manuscripts  in  my  line  than  I  could  even  ask 
for  or  look  at  cursorily. 

I  have  left  to  the  last  the  singularly  conven- 
ient work-rooms  of  the  Academy  of  History. 
For  practical  purposes,  strange  to  say,  the 
American  workman  will  best  begin  here.  It  is 
somewhat  as  an  intelligent  student  of  Massachu- 
setts history  in  Boston  would  establish  himself, 
if  he  might,  in  the  Historical  Library,  particu- 
larly if  he  had  Mr.  Deane  and  Dr.  Greene  at 
hand  to  coach  him  minute  by  minute,  and  then 
would  make  forays  when  he  wanted  to  consult 
originals,  say  to  the  State  House  or  to  Cam- 
bridge or  to  the  Antiquarian  Library. 

At  the  Academy  they  have,  in  nearly  one  hun- 
dred volumes,  the  manuscript  collections  made 
ii 


1 62  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

by  Munoz  in  the  last  century  for  his  History  of 
America.  Of  this  history,  only  the  first  volume 
was  published ;  but  Munoz  had  been  engaged 
for  some  forty  years  in  collecting  his  materials. 
He  had  full  access  to  the  Simancas  and  to  the 
Seville  collections.  He  must  have  had  at  his 
orders  a  considerable  staff  of  copyists.  He 
began  his  work  by  copying,  in  full,  in  most 
cases,  the  most  important  documents.  These 
made  up  the  collection  in  the  Academy.  Now, 
of  course,  whatever  luck  the  American  traveller 
might  have,  whether  at  Simancas  or  at  Seville, 
in  overhauling  papers,  he  could  not  expect  in 
his  vacation  to  have  as  good  a  chance  at  the 
best  plums  as  Munoz  had  in  his  forty  years.  So 
a  man  will  be  wise  to  look  through  the  Munoz 
volumes,  early  in  his  work,  and  see  what  there 
is  there  which  he  has  not  seen  before. 

Buckingham  Smith  has  been  before  him. 
Many,  if  not  most,  of  the  curious  papers  in  his 
volume  of  collections  are  in  the  Munoz  collec- 
tion. Lately  the  Spanish  government  has  pub- 
lished two  collections  of  "  Documentos  Ineditos," 
—  documents  which  till  then  had  been  uned- 
ited, —  one  of  general  history  and  one  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  Indies.  This  last  has  special  interest 
for  Americans,  and  all  our  larger  public  libra- 
ries should  have  it;  there  are  thirty-four  vol- 
umes.    Many  of  these  papers  also  are  in  Mufioz. 


MADRID.  163 

But  I  found  a  good  deal  there  which  was  quite 
new  to  me.  In  particular,  there  is  a  running  di- 
gest of  those  documents  which  Mufioz  did  not 
copy,  which  is  a  sort  of  index  to  papers,  and 
gives  one  a  hint  of  what  is  yet  to  be  searched 
for. 

The  congress  of  "  Americanists,"  all  men  in- 
terested in  American  history,  met  last  year  in 
Madrid.  The  mere  catalogue  of  the  documents 
brought  together  for  their  inspection,  and  the 
museum  of  curiosities  contributed  by  individuals 
and  by  departments,  makes  the  mouth  water. 
"  Have  you  seen  Ferdinand  and  Isabella's  auto- 
graphs?" said  a  gentleman  to  me  one  day,  as 
he  was  turning  over  a  volume  of  letters  and 
lighted  on  one  accidentally.  And  another  sug- 
gested that  in  such  a  place  I  should  find  Cor- 
tes's  letters  in  the  original.  You  become  used 
to  such  "  finds "  or  nuggets.  But  when  you 
read  on  one  single  page  such  a  string  of  titles 
as  the  catalogue  of  the  Americanista  Museum 
gives,  you  wish  you  had  been  in  Spain  a  year  be- 
fore. It  was  what  we  call  a  loan  exhibition,  and 
it  will  be,  I  suppose,  a  long  time  before  such 
rarities  are  brought  together  under  one  roof 
again. 

The  catalogue  begins  with  illustrations  of 
primitive  American  civilization,  —  seventy  uten- 
sils of  stone,  fifty-one  of  copper  or  brass,  several 


1 64  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

paintings,  and  more  than  one  hundred  sculp- 
tured busts,  statues,  and  idols. 

There  were  more  than  two  hundred  articles 
of  clothing  and  nearly  two  hundred  weapons. 
There  were  more  than  six  hundred  vases  and 
other  ceramics. 

Of  other  articles  grouped  together  under  the 
general  head  of  Mobiliario  were  nearly  four 
hundred  objects,  such  as  instruments  of  music 
or  pieces  of  furniture,  or  other  manufactures  of 
American  ingenuity. 

M.  del  Valle,  the  accomplished  librarian  of 
the  Royal  Library,  showed  to  me  the  most  beau- 
tiful and  costly  book  I  ever  saw,  which  has, 
however,  an  interest  far  beyond  any  worth  of 
jewels  or  gold.  The  casket  itself  showed  that 
something  precious  was  within.  The  book,  as 
large  as  the  small  quarto  Bible  known  as 
"  Cheyne's  edition,"  blazes  with  gold  and  jew- 
els, between  which  the  rich  leather  of  the  cover 
appears,  just  enough  to  show  that  the  traditions 
of  leather  binding  are  preserved.  Within  is  a 
missal,  elegantly  printed  by  hand  on  vellum, 
richly  gilt  and  decorated.  Where  a  king  or 
queen  is  represented  in  the  picture,  a  portrait 
of  Isabella  I.,  or  of  Ferdinand,  or  of  some  other 
sovereign  of  their  time,  appears.  The  wise 
men  at  Bethlehem  are,  I  think,  in  like  manner, 
portraits. 


MADRID.  165 

But  the  value  of  the  beautiful  book  turns  on 
the  inscription,  which  tells  its  history  in  letters 
of  gold  on  what  was  once  a  blank  fly-leaf. 

FERDINANDUS  et  ELISABET,  piisimi  Reges, 

Sacrum  hunc  librum 

Indi9  gazae  primitiis  ornarunt. 

"Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  those  most  devout  sovereigns, 
adorned  this  sacred  book  with  the  first  fruits  of  the  Indies." 

The  book  was  made  for  their  grandson, 
Charles  the  Fifth,  and  the  very  first  gold  which 
Columbus  brought  from  the  islands  is  that 
which  you  see  to-day  in  its  decoration.  From 
Charles  the  book  descended  to  Philip  IV.,  who 
gave  it  as  a  present  to  a  favorite  cardinal,  and 
from  him  or  his  it  returned  to  the  Royal  Li- 
brary. 

Charles  the  Fifth  has,  on  the  whole,  done  the 
world  as  much  harm  as  any  man  who  has  lived 
in  it  for  a  thousand  years.  Yet  such  a  grand- 
mother hoped  for  him  and  gave  to  him  his 
prayer-book  !  If  only  he  himself  had  cared  to 
pray,  or  had  known  for  himself  and  his  duty 
in  the  world  what  prayer  is! 


CHAPTER   XI. 

SPANISH     POLITICS. 

I  HAVE  said  nothing,  so  far,  of  Spanish  poli- 
tics, partly  for  the  excellent  reason  which  Cousin 
gave  for  neglecting  Buddhism  in  his  lectures  on 
philosophy. 

"  At  this  point  in  these  lectures  I  should 
speak  on  Buddhism,"  he  said.  "  But  I  do  not, 
because  I  know  nothing  about  it." 

You  cannot  help  being  interested  in  politics, 
though  you  be  a  wayfaring  man  in  the  condition 
in  which  a  wayfaring  man  is  apt  to  find  himself; 
for  all  the  Spaniards  are,  or  seem  to  be,  wild 
about  their  political  condition.  They  are  in  that 
early  stage  of  constitutional  development  which 
we  have  happily  passed,  when  even  sensible  peo- 
ple think  that  almost  everything  depends  on  the 
central  administration.  To  that  stage  belongs  a 
love  of  discussion  which  becomes  even  absurd. 
And  in  these  days  of  cheap  ink  and  paper  and 
steam-press  work,  there  results  to  such  a  nation 
a  flood  of  newspapers.  All  of  these  are  small, 
almost  all  poor ;   all  are  violent  in  their  attacks 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  167 

on  other  journals  and  on  the  people  whom  the 
editors  do  not  like ;  and  the  streams  of  satire, 
invective,  and  strained  wit  would  have  seemed 
absurd,  even  in  Little  Peddlington  or  in  Eatan- 
swill.  Every  day,  as  I  may  have  said  before,  at 
least  one  large  colored  cartoon  is  printed  by  one 
or  another  of  the  comic  papers.  These  make 
quite  a  little  picture-gallery  at  the  news-shops 
for  those  who  cannot  read.  These  are,  alas ! 
four-fifths  of  the  population. 

How  three  million  readers  can  support  so 
many  newspapers  I  cannot  understand.  I  have, 
somewhere,  a  memorandum  of  the  number  of 
dailies  printed  in  Madrid,  and  their  daily  circula- 
tion. There  are,  I  think,  at  least  ten  different 
papers,  and  the  aggregate  circulation  must  come 
nearly  up  to  that  of  our  eight  Boston  dailies. 
They  are  very  small,  poorly  printed  on  poor 
paper.  The  price  is  one  cent  for  the  smallest, 
two  cents  for  the  larger  and  better,  and  three 
cents  for  those  which  have  a  colored  cartoon. 
These  colored  pictures  are  very  well  printed, 
quite  as  well  as  "  Puck's."  Sometimes  they  are 
very  funny,  sometimes  to  a  traveller  wholly 
unintelligible,  and  sometimes,  as  I  said  in 
speaking  of  Seville,  fairly  blasphemous.  It  had 
never  before  occurred  to  me  that  there  would 
be  a  better  sale  for  such  pictures  in  a  country 
which  cannot  read,  than  in  one  that  can. 


1 68  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

The  reader  must  remember  that  the  popula- 
tion of  Madrid  and  that  of  Boston  are  nearly  the 
same,  when  I  ask  him  to  compare  thus  the 
newspaper  circulation  of  the  two  cities.  The 
population  is  the  same;  but  while  in  Boston 
almost  everybody  can  read,  as  we  know  even 
from  the  Governor's  message,  only  one-fifth  of 
the  Spaniards  can,  on  the  average  of  the  king- 
dom. And  I  am  afraid  that  of  those  who  do 
read,  most  read  very  little  and  very  ill. 

The  key  to  the  convictions  of  readers  and  non- 
readers  was  given  to  me  by  a  cynical  neighbor 
at  the  hotel  in  Seville.    His  epigram  was  this  :  — 

"  There  are  in  Spain  fifteen  million  people, 
and  they  hold  fifteen  million  and  one  opinions 
in  politics." 

I  am  disposed  to  think  that  this  is  substan- 
tially true.  The  real  population  is  sixteen  mil- 
lion eight  hundred  thousand.  There  are  quite 
as  many  opinions.  If,  as  I  fear,  most  of  them 
are  still  in  that  mood  which  gives  any  attention 
to  the  constant  shriek  and  howl  and  sneer  of  the 
short-paragraph  makers  of  the  dailies,  —  even 
more  foolish  and  worthless  than  the  perpetual 
snarl  of  our  third-rate  Washington  correspon- 
dent at  home,  —  you  can  see  that  the  chances 
are  poor  for  anything  like  a  calm  consideration 
of  the  position. 

This  is  one  side  of  the  problem  of  Spanish 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  169 

politics,  as  it  strikes  an  ignorant  traveller,  look- 
ing wholly  from  the  outside. 

Please  to  remember,  however,  how  the  prob- 
lems of  American  politics  would  strike  a  trav- 
eller here,  who  could  talk  little  English,  and 
who  steadily  bought  half  a  dozen  papers  a  day 
of  all  sorts,  with  no  original  knowledge  of  the 
distinction  between  the  "New  York  Herald" 
and  the  "  Bird  of  Freedom  Screecher,"  and  who 
read  them  all  conscientiously  as  he  travelled 
from  city  to  city.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  if  I  am 
as  ignorant  of  Spanish  politics  and  the  Spanish 
press  as  the  last  distinguished  English  poet  whom 
I  talked  with  in  America  was  of  ours,  this  loyal 
reader  had  better  skip  to  the  beginning  of  the 
next  chapter.  From  the  nature  of  the  case,  the 
traveller  feels  the  mosquito  bites,  is  annoyed 
by  the  flies,  and  hears  the  screeching  of  the 
crickets  and  frogs  in  a  new  country.  From  the 
nature  of  the  case,  also,  he  is  not  admitted  for 
very  long  conferences  with  the  real  leaders  of 
opinion  and  life,  who  are  probably  much  too 
busy  to  talk  with  him,  and  are  probably  much 
too  wise  and  reticent  to  be  talking  a  great  deal 
with  anybody.  Let  the  intelligent  reader  re- 
member this,  and  let  him  ask  himself,  if  he  be 
really  intelligent,  exactly  how  much  stock  he 
takes  in  the  snarling  or  the  pessimism  of  third- 
rate  newspapers  at  home. 


170  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

If  you  trusted  the  newspapers,  you  would  say 
that  there  was  only  one  man  in  Spain,  or  possi- 
bly two,  who  wanted  Sagasta,  the  present  Prime 
Minister,  to  stay  in,  and  that  this  one  was  Sa- 
gasta himself;  that  the  other  was  possibly  his 
confidential  private  secretary.  You  would  say 
that  everybody  else  was  wild  to  have  such  an 
absurd  pretender  pushed  from  his  throne,  and 
every  morning  you  would  be  sure  that  he  would 
have  fallen  the  next  day,  and  that  he  would  be 
at  once  forgotten. 

In  point  of  fact,  "  as  it  seems  to  me  "  (as  dear 
old  Nestor  used  to  say),  Sagasta  is  one  of  the 
ablest  men  in  Europe, — the  sort  of  man  who  will 
be  spoken  of,  by  and  by,  by  the  side  of  Cavour. 
I  had  no  opportunity  of  talking  politics  with  the 
King.  He  was  very  much  engaged  while  I  was 
in  Madrid,  and  so  was  I.  But  I  think  that  he 
has  as  high  an  opinion  of  Sagasta  as  any  of  us 
can  form.  And  I  think  the  King  is  a  remarkable 
young  man,  and  that  if  he  can  hold  on  for  five 
years  longer,  as  he  has  for  the  last  eight,  he  will 
be  counted,  not  only  as  one  of  the  wisest  sover- 
eigns in  Europe,  but  as  one  of  the  wisest  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 

When  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  speaking  of  Louis 
Philippe  after  his  death,  he  said,  "  He  was  the 
most  distinguished  ruler  who  has  filled  the 
throne  of  France  "  —  and  there  he  paused.     The 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  171 

House  listened  expectant,  and  Sir  Robert  closed 
the  sentence  by  saying,  "  since  the  fall  of  Napo- 
leon." It  was  not  much  to  say  that  poor  Louis 
Philippe  was  more  distinguished  than  those  fag- 
end  Bourbons  whom  he  followed.  Alas  !  it  is  less 
to  say  that  this  young  man  has  already,  in  eight 
years,  shown  more  wisdom  than  all  his  ancestors 
together  have  shown  in  three  centuries  and  a 
half  since  Isabella  died ;  for,  simply,  they  have 
shown  none.  I  do  not  know  if  his  head  rests 
uneasy ;  but  I  should  think  he  might  feel  that 
Spain  has  had,  since  he  was  on  the  throne,  the 
best  eight  years  which  she  has  had  in  a  century, 
or,  indeed,  in  two. 

As  I  have  intimated,  the  King  seems  disposed 
to  stand  by  Sagasta,  and  to  give  him  and  his 
the  best  chance  possible.  Of  the  King,  the  first 
story  which  every  one  tells  you  is  this,  that 
when  he  was  asked  to  take  the  crown,  being 
indeed  the  heir  to  his  abdicating  or  abdicated 
mother,  Isabella  the  Bad,  his  answer  was,  "  Yes, 
I  will  come  if  you  wish.  Only,  when  you 
want  me  to  go,  tell  me  so,  and  I  will  go.  Re- 
member, all  along,  that  I  am  the  first  republican 
in  Europe."  It  seemed  to  me,  all  along,  that  I 
saw  the  signs  of  a  people  pleased  that  they  had 
for  a  king  a  man  whom  they  were  not  obliged  to 
have,  and  yet  who  had  not  canvassed  for  the 
place.     It  is  the    difference    between  having  a 


172  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

mayor  like  Josiah  Ouincy,  who  you  know  never 
asked  to  be  mayor,  and  does  not  want  to  be  if 
people  do  not  want  him,  and  having  somebody 
who  has  been  pulling  wires  and  packing  caucuses 
for  the  nomination.  In  my  theory  of  the  situa- 
tion, the  King  sees  Sagasta's  wisdom,  and  knows 
that  absolutely  all  they  require  is  peace  among 
themselves,  and  that  then  the  good  climate,  good 
soil,  good  blood,  and  good  race,  which  at  San 
Diego's  request  the  good  God  gave  to  Spain, 
will  pull  Spain  through. 

What  would  you  do,  if  you  could?  I  have 
always  found  this  a  good  question  to  put  .to  my- 
self in  any  exigency,  or  in  any  new  situation. 
It  clears  the  sky  a  good  deal  if  you  can  answer 
it.  To  find  out  what  is  the  ideal  best  thing  is  a 
great  help.  Sitting  in  the  gallery  of  the  cham- 
ber, and  reading  the  newspapers  in  that  conven- 
ient club-house  commonly  called  a  street-car,  I 
often  turned  over  this  question  in  Spain,  —  what 
would  I-do,  if,  by  accident,  the  King  put  me  in 
Sagasta's  place.  You  have  this  enormous  debt 
saddled  on  your  nation.  It  is  stated  in  the 
Gotha  Almanac  as  $2,583,000,000,  and  in  Cham- 
bers's Cyclopaedia  as  $1,875,000,000.  The  two 
estimates  are  only  $708,000,000  apart;  and  I 
am  afraid  that  it  is  not  of  very  much  conse- 
quence which  account  the  reader  takes,  if  he 
only  takes  in  the  idea  that  the  debt  is  enormous, 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  173 

"anyway."  The  poor  fellows  managed  to  pay 
upon  it,  in  1880,  $57,897,225  by  way  of  interest. 
It  may  instruct  the  American  reader  to  compare 
this  payment  with  that  which  the  United  States 
made  on  its  interest  account  last  year.  We  paid 
$71,077,206,  and  we  thought  that  to  be  a  good 
deal.  Remember  that  Spain  has  but  16,800,000 
people  and  that  we  have  50,000,000. 

Their  army  expenses  in  1 880  were  $22,000,000, 
and  their  naval  expenses  $6,000,000.  Our  army 
last  year  cost  us  $43,000,000, —  but  this  in- 
cluded harbor  improvements,  —  and  our  navy 
$15,000,000.  Their  "  public  works"  cost  them 
$1 5,000,000.  These  added  to  the  army  expenses 
would  make  up  $37,000,000, —  still  not  up  to  our 
figures,  for  three  times  as  many  people.  I  do 
not  see,  therefore,  that  an  American  has  any 
right  to  say  that  in  these  things  their  govern- 
ment charges  are  excessive. 

If  their  army  expenses  seem  high,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  they  have  Cuba  and  the  Phil- 
ippine Islands  to  take  care  of,  for  better  for 
worse,  for  richer  for  poorer. 

When  Mr.  Alexander  Everett  was  our  minis- 
ter to  Spain,  rather  more  than  fifty  years  ago, 
he  proposed  that  they  borrow  $100,000,000, 
without  interest,  from  the  United  States,  paya- 
ble at  their  pleasure  (not  at  ours),  and  to  give  as 
pledge  or  mortgage  for  it  the  island  of  Cuba. 


174  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

In  his  letter  to  Mr.  Clay  explaining  this  pro- 
posal, he  said  that  they  would  never  sell  Cuba,  — 
Spain  was  quite  too  proud.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  we  held  it  in  pledge,  we  should  have  the  over- 
sight of  the  government,  which  is  all  we  should 
want,  under  our  system.  We  should  also  have 
the  customs  revenue  under  our  tariff,  whatever 
that  tariff  might  be. 

He  did  not  say,  but  I  say,  that  we  should  have 
free  sugar.  Some  people  would  like  that,  how- 
ever it  might  affect  my  Louisiana  friends. 

It  would  also  be  a  good  while  before  Spain 
would  ask  to  have  Cuba  returned,  or  would  care 
to  pay  off  the  mortgage.  Any  way,  it  would 
relieve  both  sides  of  the  Spanish  budget. 

I  was  present  at  one  of  the  great  field-days 
in  the  Cortes,  or  Chamber  of  Deputies.  The 
debate  was  upon  the  subject  of  a  re-arrange- 
ment of  the  judicial  system,  but  the  occasion 
had  been  seized  upon  by  the  opposition  for  an 
attempt  to  split  the  government,  and  the  result 
was  looked  for  with  great  interest  by  everybody. 
Trial  by  jury  has  never,  for  any  long  time,  been 
part  of  the  judicial  arrangement  in  Spain.  The 
present  ministry,  or  at  least  a  portion  of  them, 
had  at  the  time  of  their  election  given  promise 
to  the  people  of  a  new  attempt  to  incorporate 
the  jury  among  the  other  institutions.  The  ex- 
periment has  been  tried  several  times  before, 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  1 75 

but  each  time,  through  unfortunate  circum- 
stances, the  system  has  had  no  chance  to  live. 
To  carry  out  their  promise,  then,  the  ministry 
introduced  a  re-arrangement  of  the  whole  judicial 
system,  a  part  of  the  scheme  being  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  jury.  Through  some  disagreement 
on  the  government  side,  real  or  supposed,  the 
opposition  had  seized  upon  the  question  as  a 
test  point,  and  the  occasion  was  taken  by  nearly 
everybody  to  speak,  to  define  his  position  in 
matters  of  importance  generally.  The  govern- 
ment, as  a  matter  of  fact,  held  together  firmly, 
and  the  opposition  was  not  wholly  united  against 
it,  so  that  the  occasion,  being  such  an  over- 
whelming victory  for  Sagasta  and  the  ministry, 
was  really  little  more  than  a  very  brilliant  de- 
bate, in  which  I  had  the  opportunity  of  hearing 
almost  all  the  speakers  of  note  in  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies. 

It  is  a  very  orderly  assembly  indeed,  more  so 
than  any  of  the  sort  that  I  ever  saw  before,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  our  own  Massachusetts  House  of 
Representatives.  They  transact  business  quickly 
and  without  unnecessary  disturbance,  pay  careful 
attention  to  what  is  going  on,  and  generally  try 
to  get  through  the  work  in  hand  as  well  as  they 
possibly  can.  The  whole  scene  had  a  dignity 
and  decorum  quite  in  keeping  with  Spanish 
character.     The  speeches  were,  as  a  rule,  cour- 


176  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

teously  made,  and  were  heard  attentively.  The 
whole  Chamber  listened  carefully,  and  applauded 
the  parts  of  the  speech  which  seemed  good. 
The  speaker,  Herrera,  a  man  of  experience,  held 
the  House  well  in  hand,  and  maintained  the 
most  admirable  order. 

The  Cortes  is  a  young-looking  assembly,  far 
younger  than  the  legislative  bodies  of  England, 
France,  or  of  our  own  country.  The  members 
speak  with  perfect  ease.  I  observed  no  notes 
used  at  all.  They  claim  the  floor  in  advance,  so 
that  the  president  calls  up  the  speakers  from  a 
list  which  he  has  by  him,  thus  avoiding  much 
disturbance. 

It  would  be  hard  to  persuade  me  that  the  dif- 
ficulty in  the  new  birth  of  Spain  is  to  be  found 
in  any  fundamental  deficiency  in  the  Spanish 
people.  It  will  probably  prove  true  that  they 
must  work  through  the  fatal  passion  for  talk, 
which,  as  I  have  said,  seems  to  be  upon  them 
now.  They  must  work  out  their  salvation,  and 
not  talk  it  out.  If  it  is  true,  however,  that  sixty 
per  cent  of  the  whole  surface  of  the  kingdom  is 
under  cultivation,  —  and  these  figures  are  given 
with  authority,  —  they  are  certainly  on  the  right 
track  in  the  development  of  their  agriculture. 
Their  exports  are  wine,  dried  fruit,  flour,  grain, 
fresh  vegetables,  seeds,  pork,  and  salt,  besides 
metals,  bullion,  and  ores.     Of  these,  as  I  under- 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  1 77 

stand,  the  average  valuation  is  about  $75,000,000. 
I  have  placed  these  in  the  order  of  their  value, 
giving  those  of  most  pecuniary  importance  first. 
You  cannot  but  observe  that  they  are  things 
which  bring  a  high  price,  when  they  are  well 
made,  —  things  in  which  sunshine,  and  a  good 
deal  of  it,  generally  makes  an  important  part  of 
the  value.  This  is  certainly  encouraging  in  the 
Spanish  problem,  —  if,  as  I  suppose,  the  real 
questions  are  industrial  and  agricultural,  —  how 
to  make  Spain  yield  more  oil,  more  wine,  more 
grain,  and  more  fruit. 

I  was  well  pleased  in  London  in  August  to  see 
Spanish  melons  fresh  and  good.  One  of  the  im- 
mense advantages  which  Northern  Europe  can 
derive  from  the  railroad  and  steamboat  system 
is  the  supply  of  fresh  fruit  from  Southern  Eu- 
rope. But  I  do  not  think  that  they  yet  utilize 
their  facilities  in  this  way  nearly  as  freely  as  we 
do  ours.  Say  what  you  please  of  the  advantages 
of  Florida,  and  I  think  few  people  have  said 
more  of  them  than  I  have,  it  does  not  surpass 
Spain  in  the  production  of  fresh  fruits,  and  it 
does  not  even  approach  her  in  the  production 
of  oil  and  wine. 

I  say  I  do  not  think  that  the  real  difficulty  is 
with  the  Spanish  people.  I  have  very  little 
hope  for  pure  Celtic  races.  But  these  people 
have  a  very  large  infusion  of  Gothic  blood,  and 


178  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  those  whom  the 
Goths  found  there  were  of  Celtic  origin.  They 
are  justly  proud  of  many  of  their  local  institu- 
tions, which  are  certainly  often  admirable.  You 
have  to  arrange  that  forty  persons  shall  learn  to 
read  where  ten  can  do  so  now. 

I  ought  to  add,  that  far  beneath  this  instruc- 
tion it  may  be  necessary  to  teach  them  how  to 
tell  the  truth. 

Literally,  every  foreigner  whom  I  talked  with 
told  me  that  the  Spaniards  are  all  liars ;  but  of 
this  I  myself  saw  absolutely  nothing.  I  found 
a  very  civil,  friendly,  self-respecting,  and  thought- 
ful people,  ready  to  oblige,  and  not  seeking  the 
usual  European  pence  or  shilling.  They  seem 
to  me  a  good  deal  like  our  simple  Block  Isl- 
anders, or  unsophisticated  people  of  the  best 
type  in  New  England.  I  do  not  like  to  think 
that  I  might  be  undeceived  if  I  had  stayed  there 
longer ;  but  I  know  that  I  had  little  chance  to 
learn. 

I  really  had  flattered  myself,  as  you  may 
imagine  Tityrus  saying,  that  my  residence  of  a 
few  weeks  in  Madrid  had  put  me  a  little  on  my 
guard  as  to  foreign  accounts  of  Spanish  politics. 
But  when,  after  six  months  absence,  I  had  been 
steadily  looking  through  the  colored  spectacles 
of  London  editors,  and  the  very  oblique  trans- 
mission by  submarine  cable  of  the  very  crooked 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  1 79 

rays  which  pass  through  those  spectacles,  I  was 
quite  as  easily  deceived  as  the  wisest  of  us. 

We  were  all  told,  thrice  a  day  perhaps  this 
winter,  that  the  Marshal  Serrano  had,  in  the  re- 
cess of  the  Cortes,  created  a  coalition  of  the  ex- 
treme of  one  side  of  the  spectrum  with  the 
extreme  of  the  other,  —  a  sort  of  violet-red  or, 
red-violet  party,  which  was  wholly  to  overwhelm 
poor  Sagasta,  and  any  parties  of  yellow  or  green 
which  there  might  be  in  the  middle.  Being  told 
so  all  the  time,  I  gradually  gave  way,  yielded 
from  my  optimistic  hope  that  all  would  come 
out  right,  and  supposed  poor  Sagasta  must  take 
the  back  seat  as  soon  as  the  Cortes  met  again. 

The  Cortes  met,  a  test  vote  was  reached  at 
once,  and  lo,  Sagasta  had  an  overwhelming 
majority !  So  much  for  newspaper  news  from 
Spain.  When  I  was  in  Madrid,  I  knew  that 
ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  words  in  the  tele- 
grams from  London  were  wrong. 

I  will  not  undertake  to  go  into  any  solution  of 
the  names  of  parties.  You  might  as  well  under- 
take in  America  to  tell  what  a  party  is  doing  by 
the  etymology  of  its  name,  "  democrat,  barn- 
burner, republican,  or  loco-foco,"  as  analyze  the 
etymology  of  one  of  the  Spanish  names.  If  they 
make  a  fusion,  they  unite  the  names  of  the 
fused  parties ;  as  if  our  coalition  in  Massachu- 
setts which  sent  Charles  Sumner  to  the  Senate 


180  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

had  been  called  the  "  Democratic  Free-Soil 
party."  And  "Democratic  Dynastic"  would  not 
seem  queer  to  a  trained  Spanish  politician. 

Castelar  is  still,  I  think,  highly  respected. 
I  found  his  books  everywhere  on  sale.  The 
papers  which  he  has  published  in  American  and 
English  journals  have  been  collected  in  volumes 
and  published  in  the  Spanish  language.  He  is 
the  responsible  editor  of  a  daily  evening  journal 
-called  "  El  Dia,"  which  I  foumd  rather  the  most 
readable  of  any  of  the  Spanish  papers.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  it  has  but  a  small  circulation, —  about 
eight  thousand  copies  daily,  I  believe.  While  I 
was  in  Madrid,  Garibaldi  died,  and  Castelar  pub- 
lished quite  at  length  a  notice  of  him,  which 
included  a  long  account  of  his  own  personal  in- 
terviews with  Garibaldi,  one  at  the  time  when 
he  was  serving  in  France  with  the  Italian  legion. 

I  was  a  believer  in  the  Spanish  Republic,  as 
long  as  any  man  not  quite  a  fool  could  believe 
in  it,  —  a  perfectly  ignorant  believer,  but  on  gen- 
eral grounds.  Now  it  is  all  over,  I  ought  to 
say  that  they  appear  to  have  made  "  a  very  poof 
show."  Whether  the  people  did  not  like  a  re- 
public I  can  hardly  say ;  but  I  think  they  did 
not.  I  fancy  the  men  at  the  fore  knew  next 
to  nothing  about  administration,  and  made  a 
sad  business  of  the  mere  detail  of  government 
itself.     Abraham  Lincoln  said,  that  in  any  one 


SPANISH  POLITICS.  l8l 

of  his  first  regiments  in  the  war  there  were  men 
enough  to  have  taken  all  the  departments  of  ad- 
ministration and  to  carry  them  decently  through. 
This  was  probably  true.  Just  that  thing,  I  sup- 
pose, was  not  true,  when,  by  a  happy  chance, 
Castelar  and  his  friends  came  into  power  in 
Spain.  I  think  that  they  did  not  know  how 
to  Post-Office,  to  Interior,  to  War  Department, 
to  Navy,  or  to  Finance,  if  I  may  invent  some 
convenient  verbs.  Anyhow,  it  happened  that 
they  were  all  turned  out,  and  I  think  nobody 
regretted  it. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION. 

The  excellent  Ricci,  who  had  the  care  of  our 
physical  welfare  while  we  lived  in  Madrid,  said 
one  day,  with  a  loyal  sigh,  as  he .  praised  the 
water  with  which  Madrid  is  blessed,  that  they 
"  owed  that  at  least  to  Queen  Isabella."  The 
Bad  Queen  thus  had  the  merit  of  the  great 
aqueduct  given  to  her,  as  in  the  Sierra  I  had 
found  that  she  had  the  credit  of  the  admirable 
road.  So  much  virtue  is  there  in  a  name.  The 
name  of  Isabella  is  attached  both  to  road  and  to 
aqueduct,  and  her  memory  will  be  as  likely  to 
be  connected  with  them  in  the  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple as  with  any  less  deserving  transaction  of  her 
reign.  So  much  is  there  in  any  name,  with  all 
deference  to  the  Signorina  Giuletta,  and  so  true 
is  it  that  people  "  throw  on  the  King  "  all  the 
good  they  can,  as  well  as  all  the  evil. 

In  the  fulness  of  time  Isabella  had  to  be 
turned  out  for  clear,  sheer  bad  behavior,  so  bad 
that  I  suppose  nobody  chooses  to  say  that  she 
might,    could,   or   should    have   been   kept   in, 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION.  1 83 

though  perhaps  she  would  have  been  could  she 
have  had  her  own  way.  Her  title  at  Spanish 
law  was  none  of  the  best.  Women  had  not  suc- 
ceeded since  Isabella  the  Good,  and  it  was  not 
until  it  was  clear  that  she  was  to  have  no  broth- 
er, that  the  edict  was  made  just  before  she  was 
born,  in  1830,  reversing  all  old  laws  of  succes- 
sion, by  which  she  became  Queen  when  she  was 
really  an  infant  three  years  old.  Don  Carlos, 
her  uncle,  never  assented  to  this  decree  which 
deprived  him  of  the  throne,  and  there  followed 
the  Carlist  intrigues  and  rebellions  of  half  a  cen- 
tury. As  Don  Carlos  mixed  himself  up  as  a 
Bourbon  fanatic  with  the  bigoted  Romanism  of 
the  northern  provinces,  Isabella's  party  became, 
rather  from  necessity,  the  supposed  representa- 
tive of  Liberalism  after  one  fashion  or  another, 
though  of  course  within  itself  were  all  shades. 
So  they  fought  and  caballed  while  this  child 
grew  up  to  womanhood.  And  she,  as  soon  as 
she  was  old  enough  to  do  wrong,  managed  to 
do  it,  in  one  wretched  way  or  another,  until  in 
the  reactions  of  the  revolutionary  wars  of  1848 
and  later  years  even  Spain  could  not  stand  her 
and  her  debaucheries  longer,  and  she  was  com- 
pelled to  abdicate. 

So  it  is  that  at  the  Hippodrome  at  Paris  I  saw 
what  pretended  to  be  her  state  carriage,  and  so 
it  is  that  she  makes  one  of  the  coterie  of  exiled 


1 84  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

princes  who  are  hanging  round  one  or  another 
European  capital.  For  a  while  the  Spanish 
government  let  her  live  in  retirement  in  the 
beautiful  palace  called  the  Alcazar,  in  Seville. 
But  she  behaved  so  badly  there,  that  they  had 
to  send  her  out  of  the  country. 

Spain  tried  one  and  another  experiment  after 
she  had  done  with  the  Bad  Queen,  and  finally  in 
1874  returned  to  the  type,  as  Dr.  Darwin  would 
say,  and  offered  her  crown  to  Isabella's  son, 
who  had  grown  up  in  the  advantages  of  exile. 
The  boy  had  had  the  advantage  in  earlier  life, 
as  I  am  fond  of  telling  my  young  friends,  of 
being  trained  by  a  Boston  governess.  Remem- 
ber that,  young  gentlemen,  who  sit  under  Miss 
Simonds's  mild  empire  at  the  Rice  School.  It 
is  a  training  which  the  sons  of  queens  might 
envy.  As  I  have  already  said,  the  distinguished 
lady  to  whose  care  was  intrusted  the  education 
of  the  children  of  Isabella  was  Madame  Calde- 
ron.  She  was  wife  and  afterwards  widow  of 
Seiior  Calderon,  who  for  many  years  represented 
his  government  at  Washington,  and  was  then 
appointed  its  first  Minister  in  Mexico  on  the 
pacification  which  followed  the  separation  of  a 
generation  between  old  Spain  and  new  Spain.  I 
remember  an  anecdote  which  I  believe  I  heard 
from  his  own  lips,  of  the  braggart  General  Santa 
Ana,  President  of  Mexico.     Senor  Calderon,  in 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION.         1 85 

a  conference  with  Santa  Ana,  then  President, 
referred  to  Revillagigedo,  as  one  of  the  most 
successful  of  the  old  Mexican  viceroys,  a  man 
who  had  understood  Mexico,  and  whose  rule 
had  been  a  benefit  to  her.  Santa  Ana  cor- 
dially indorsed  Senor  Calderon's  opinion,  and 
said :  "  I  always  imitate  him  when  I  can ;  he 
used  to  drive  out  with  eight  horses,  and  I  always 
do  the  same." 

Madame  Calderon  visited  Mexico  with  her 
husband,  and  her  account  of  that  visit,  "  Life  in 
Mexico,"  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  books  of 
modern  travel. 

But  it  is  not  so  much  as  Madame  Calderon 
that  she  is  remembered  among  the  older  people 
of  the  best  circles  in  Boston,  but  as  Miss  Fanny 
Inglis.  When  Mrs.  Macleod  opened  a  school 
in  Boston,  which  many  of  the  matrons  of  Boston 
remember,  her  sister,  Miss  Inglis,  her  principal 
assistant,  with  brilliancy  and  success  well  re- 
membered, gave  her  invaluable  services  in  this 
school  for  six  years.  During  that  time  she  was 
a  great  favorite  in  Boston  society ;  and  to  many 
a  bright  anonymous  paragraph,  and  sometimes 
to  a  bright  anonymous  pamphlet,  her  name 
was,  rightly  or  wrongly,  given.  I  learn  from 
the  American  Cyclopaedia  that  she  was  the 
great-granddaughter  of  Colonel  Gardiner,  who, 
as    readers   of  "  Waverley  "  will    recollect,    fell 


1 86  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

at  Prestonpans,  and  who  enjoyed  Whitefield's 
sermons. 

This  is  the  lady  to  whose  admirable  intelli- 
gence the  education  of  the  children  of  Queen 
Isabella  was  fortunately  intrusted.  It  is  said 
that  her  relations  with  the  ladies,  the  sisters  of 
the  King,  have  always  remained  tender  and 
intimate.  These  ladies  are  the  Infanta  Isabelle, 
who  is  now  the  widow  of  the  Prince  Gaetan,  the 
Infanta  Marie  della  Paz,  and  the  Infanta  Eulalie. 
Two  of  the  princesses  reside  at  the  palace,  and 
we  frequently  met  them  driving.  The  Gotha 
Almanach  reveals  the  fact  that  they  are  twenty 
and  eighteen  years  old.  The  King,  their  brother, 
was  born  in  1857. 

Almost  every  afternoon  the  clatter  of  out- 
riders beneath  the  windows  called  to  the  bal- 
cony people  so  unphilosophical  as  take  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  royalty,  that  they  might  see 
the  carriage-and-four  dash  by  in  which  the  In- 
fanta Maria  de  las  Mercedes  took  her  daily  air- 
ing. She  was  always  in  the  arms  of  her  nurse, 
being  at  that  time  twenty-two  months  old.  The 
little  thing  bears  the  name,  not  of  her  mother, 
but  of  the  first  wife  of  the  King,  a  lady  very 
much  beloved  in  Spain  by  her  husband  and 
people,  who  died  June  26,  1878.  The  present 
Queen  is  a  daughter  of  the  Archduke  Charles 
of  Austria. 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION.         1 87 

The  King  was  a  good  deal  occupied  while  I 
was  in  Madrid,  and  so  was  I,  as  I  have  said,  and 
nothing  transpired  of  that  importance  which 
made  it  necessary  for  him  to  send  for  me.  Ex- 
cept as  I  passed  him  in  his  carriage,  therefore, 
I  had  but  one  opportunity  to  see  him.  This 
was  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Agricultural 
Society.  The  meeting  was  held  in  the  Agricul- 
tural or  Horticultural  Gardens,  which  are  on  or 
near  the  Prado,  not  far  from  the  great  picture- 
gallery.  The  grounds  are  very  beautiful,  with 
abundance  of  rare  trees,  shrubs,  and  flowers. 
In  a  convenient  place  a  pavilion  had  been  erect- 
ed, under  which  were  two  or  three  chairs,  one 
of  which  is,  I  suppose,  to  be  called  a  throne. 
In  front,  at  the  right  and  left  of  a  wide  gravel- 
path,  and  under  the  shade  of  trees,  were  ar- 
ranged seats  for  the  assembly,  enough  perhaps 
for  three  hundred  people.  The  company  was 
admitted  by  tickets,  and  I  should  think  fully 
one-half  were  ladies.  If  I  understand  rightly, 
this  was  rather  unusual,  and  it  was  thought  to 
be  rather  an  advance  that  ladies  should  have  at- 
tended such  a  meeting  as  this.  Punctually,  the 
King,  and  perhaps  half  the  Cabinet,  came  up  the 
broad  walk  from  the  entrance  to  the  garden. 
He  is  well-made,  a  handsome,  manly  looking 
fellow,  modest  and  pleasing  in  his  bearing.  He 
removed  his  hat  and  bowed  to  the  right  and 


1 88  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

left,  as  he  walked  to  the  seat  prepared  for  him. 
Then  Seilor  Don  Diego  Martinez  made  the 
address,  with  which  the  meeting  opened.  He 
spoke  very  well  for  perhaps  twenty  minutes ;  it 
was  much  such  an  address  as  we  should  expect 
at  a  farmers'  club  or  a  cattle-show,  on  the  im- 
portance of  science  to  agriculture,  on  the  pos- 
sible improvement  of  the  agriculture  of  Spain, 
and  on  the  superiority  of  agriculture  to  politics 
as  a  cure  for  the  evils  of  the  country.  The  es- 
pecial point  which  interested  me  most,  in  which 
he  burst  outside  these  commonplaces,  was  the 
urgency  with  which  he  proposed  some  sort  of 
farmers'  banks,  which  he  thought  necessary 
for  the  proper  development  of  the  agricultural 
interest. 

Everybody  listened  with  attention  to  the  ad- 
dress, and  it  was  cordially  applauded.  When  it 
was  finished,  the  King  stepped  forward  and 
shook  hands  cordially  with  Sefior  Don  Diego, 
and  seemed  to  compliment  him.  Several  mem- 
bers of  the  society  were  presented  to  the  King, 
and  he  and  his  suite  then  withdrew,  followed  by 
four-fifths  of  the  assembly.  The  others,  who  I 
suppose  were  the  regular  members  of  the  soci- 
ety, remained  for  other  papers  or  a  discussion. 
This,  if  he  had  known  it,  was  the  King's  best 
chance  to  consult  me  as  to  the  administration  of 
Spain,  for,  as  I  have  said,  we  met  on  no  other 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION.         189 

oc:asion.  But,  as  I  must  add,  he  was  getting  on 
very  well,  and  he  said  nothing  to  me,  and  I 
said  nothing  to  him.  We  slowly  passed  out  of 
the  beautiful  garden  with  other  spectators  of  the 
ceremony,  and  were  just  in  time  at  the  gate  to 
see  the  King  step  lightly  into  his  carriage,  a 
sort  of  dog-cart,  take  the  reins  and  drive  rapidly 
off,  with  a  gentleman  at  his  side.  A  groom 
scrambled  up  behind,  and  the  King  drove  off  so 
rapidly  that  the  dragoons,  if  they  are  dragoons, 
had  to  spur  up  and  go  in  rapid  pursuit.  For  us, 
the  humblest  of  his  subjects,  we  went  along  the 
Prado,  to  Calle  Alcala,  and  there  took  a  horse- 
car,  at  a  cent  apiece,  to  our  homes.  It  is  the 
cheapest  country  for  horse-cars.  I  said  to  an 
Englishman  that  the  fare  was  cheap,  and  he 
happily  replied  that  it  could  not  be  cheaper, 
which  is  true,  considering  the  coinage. 

I  lost  my  way  in  the  Horticultural  Garden, 
and  a  nice  little  fellow  from  among  the  workmen 
took  ten  minutes  to  set  me  right  and  take  me 
to  the  place  of  assembly.  I  was  really  grateful 
to  him,  and  offered  him  a  trifle  of  money,  though 
with  some  hesitation  ;  but  he  refused  very  pleas- 
antly, and  said  he  was  very  glad  to  oblige.  This 
could  not  have  happened  in  England.  But  the 
truth  is,  that  neither  this  boy  nor  his  ancestors 
had  ever  been  vassals  in  a  feudal  system,  and 
neither  at  law  nor  by  custom  was  he  my  in- 
ferior in  rank. 


190  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

ADMINISTRATION. 

It  is  usual  to  say  that  the  Spanish  administra- 
tion is  bad,  that  the  officers  are  corrupt,  and 
that  a  great  deal  of  money  paid  in  taxes  does 
not  find  its  way  into  the  Treasury.  Of  the  truth 
of  such  charges  I  cannot  speak.  But  I  do  not 
give  full  credence  to  them,  because  I  know  that 
in  my  own  country  there  is  a  chronic  fashion  of 
speaking  of  our  administration  as  being  worthless 
and  profligate,  while  I  know  that  in  fact,  how- 
ever it  might  be  improved,  it  is  the  best  admin- 
istration that  has  ever  been  attained  in  the  world, 
and  the  most  economical. 

The  public  stocks  sell  at  thirty-three  or  thirty- 
four  per  cent,  which  certainly  shows  bad  finance. 
I  think  I  have  said  that  the  roads  are  perfectly 
secure,  which  shows  that  somebody  has  broken 
down  the  brigandage.  As  for  public  works, 
Spanish  engineering  has  always  ranked  high, 
and  I  think  it  still  deserves  that  distinction. 
You  see  at  every  point  the  drawback  of  having 
a  people  who  are  puzzled  by  the  simplest  arith- 
metical problems,  and  of  whom  four-fifths  can 
neither  read  nor  write.  But  I  found  a  good 
many  matters  of  detail,  in  which  it  seemed  to 
me  that  their  desire  to  oblige  and  universal 
courtesy  had  taught  them  some  things  which 
we  might   learn.     For  instance,  although   they 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION.  191 

have  very  few  travellers  from  abroad,  I  found  a 
public  interpreter  at  the  railroad  station,  whose 
business  it  was  to  help  travellers  who  did  not 
understand  Spanish.  We  have  of  German  trav- 
ellers here  a  hundred  times  the  number  of  for- 
eigners who  pass  through  Madrid;  but  I  never 
saw  or  heard  of  an  official  interpreter  at  one  of 
our  stations.  I  have  been  insulted  at  the  New 
York  ticket-office  of  the  New  Haven  Railroad 
because  I  offered  English  coin  at  the  window. 

Many  of  the  police  arrangements  of  Madrid 
seem  to  me  very  clever.  The  system  of  water- 
ing the  streets  is  a  great  deal  better  than  ours. 
The  protection  of  foot-passengers,  where  build- 
ing is  going  on,  is  more  complete  than  anything 
we  know.  I  am  disposed  to  think  that  men's 
eagerness  to  take  even  the  humblest  lines  of 
government  work  is  tenfold  greater  than  even 
Mayor  Palmer  ever  dreamed  of  among  the  loaf- 
ers who  storm  City  Hall.  But,  as  I  have  said 
before,  they  certainly  seem  to  get  good  men 
into  the  important  places  somehow. 

The  water-carriers  have  always  been  an  im- 
portant element  in  Madrid  politics.  Truly  or 
not,  they  have  the  reputation  of  turning  out  more 
than  one  government.  You  would  have  sup- 
posed that  the  aqueduct  would  have  put  an  end 
to  them  and  their  duty.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
seems  rather  as  if  it   had    been  built  for  their 


192  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

convenience;  for  there  is  no  distribution  by- 
pipes  through  most  of  the  houses.  The  aque- 
duct delivers  the  water  at  public  fountains  and 
hydrants,  and  at  such  places  the  water-carriers 
provide  themselves,  and  carry  the  water,  just  as 
formerly,  to  the  several  houses  and  fiats. 

A    NATIONAL    BISHOP. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  calling  upon  the  Rever- 
end Senor  Don  Jose  Cabrera,  the  Bishop  of  the 
National  Church,  as  it  calls  itself,  of  Spain.  I 
have  already  described  one  of  the  services  of 
this  church  at  Seville.  The  Bishop  is  an  agree- 
able and  intelligent  gentleman,  and  he  gave  me 
an  interesting  account  of  the  movement  of  which 
he  is  the  nominal  head.  Under  the  present  Span- 
ish constitution  all  religions  are  tolerated,  but  the 
Roman  Catholic  religion  is  the  only  communion 
which  may  "  publish "  its  ceremonies,  or  may 
conduct  "  public  "  services.  Just  how  much  or 
how  little  "  public  "  and  "  publish  "  mean  is,  of 
course,  a  question.  Under  very  radical  govern- 
ments the  Protestants,  of  whatever  name,  would 
not  hesitate  to  announce  their  religious  services 
in  the  newspapers ;  under  governments,  sup- 
posed to  be  reactionary,  they  would  not  make 
such  publications.  The  present  fact  is,  that  in 
all  Spain  there  are  between  sixty  and  seventy 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION.  1 93 

Protestant  congregations  of  all  sorts  and  kinds, 
of  which  only  eight  congregations  make  up  the 
so-called  National  Church,  of  which  Scnor  Don 
Jose  Cabrera  is  the  head. 

In  making  up  their  liturgy,  they  have  drawn 
almost  exclusively  from  that  old  national  lit- 
urgy of  Spain  which  I  spoke  of  in  describing 
the  church  in  Seville.  It  is  the  same  in  sub- 
stance which  is  known  to  scholars  as  "  the  lit- 
urgy of  St.  James."  As  I  have  said,  in  Spain  it 
takes  the  name  of  the  "  Mozarabic  liturgy."  I 
can  hardly  expect  general  readers  to  be  well 
acquainted  with  it;  but  I  have  a  feeling  that  in 
some  of  Miss  Yonge's  more  High-Church  sto- 
ries there  is  a  reference  to  it.  The  Gothic  Church 
used  this  liturgy  always,  so  long  as  it  existed. 
When  the  Moors  conquered  Southern  Spain, 
they  permitted  the  Christians  still  to  hold  their 
religious  services  in  their  several  cities.  They 
maintained  them,  of  course,  by  the  old  forms, 
and  it  is  thus  that  the  queer  name  "Mozarabic" 
has  come  to  be  given  to  the  liturgy  of  the 
Goths,  or  of  "  St.  James."  As  has  been  already 
said,  when  the  Moors  were  swept  out,  the  forms 
of  the  encroaching  Church  of  Rome  had  taken 
possession  of  France,  and  so  of  Northern  Spain. 
So  here  were  two  liturgies  in  presence  of  each 
other.  The  legend  says  that  the  King  decided 
the  question  by  the  result  of  a  tournament,  in 
13 


194  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

which  one  knight  was  the  champion  of  either 
party;  the  Mozarabic  knight  unhorsed  hfs  op- 
ponent, and  so  the  two  services  were  permitted 
to  exist  side  by  side,  in  the  cities  where  the 
Mozarabic  churches  still  continued. 

But  I  am  afraid  that  in  presence  of  the  In- 
quisition-defended Roman  ritual  the  Mozara- 
bic form,  like  so  many  other  national  forms, 
would  have  gone  to  the  wall  but  for  the  loyal 
interest  of  Ximenes,  Bishop  of  Toledo  in  1500, 
and  the  practical  determination  of  an  archbishop 
of  Mexico,  who  had  been  educated  in  Toledo, 
the  last  city  of  the  Mozarabic  Rite.  He  left  a 
fund  for  the  maintenance  of  priests  whose  duty 
it  still  is  to  chant  and  to  pray  in  the  Mozarabic 
forms.  One  of  these  gentlemen  sold  to  me  my 
copy  of  the  Ritual  Book. 

I  saw  no  sign  whatever  of  any  vital  or  eager 
interest  in  this  or  any  Protestant  organization. 
I  saw  signs,  indeed,  of  scepticism,  not  to  say 
sheer  infidelity  and  atheism.  I  attended  closely 
at  Catholic  services  in  Madrid  and  elsewhere, 
and  never  saw  what  we  should  call  a  large  con- 
gregation ;  but  I  did  see  many  congregations  of 
people  heartily  and  profoundly  interested. 

"  The  language  lends  itself  to  eloquence,"  as 
a  Spanish  statesman  said  to  me.  At  several 
different  occasions  I  heard  preachers-  of  great 
spirit  and  earnestness.     They  never  had  even  a 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION.  1 95 

scrap  of  paper  for  a  brief.  They  spoke  with 
great  fluency,  and  they  kept  well  to  the  point 
in  hand.  They  held  the  close  attention  of  their 
hearers. 

It  may  have  been  by  an  accident,  but  the 
special  church  services  which  I  saw  which  were 
most  largely  attended  and  seemed  most  to  in- 
terest people  were  afternoon  services  in  Madrid, 
held  at  the  direction  of  ladies'  societies,  which 
I  should  think  corresponded  to  the  charity  so- 
cieties in  our  Protestant  churches.  When  the 
anniversary  of  such  a  society  comes  round,  it 
holds,  if  I  understand  rightly,  a  meeting  or  a  series 
of  meetings,  not  simply  for  an  "  annual  report," 
indeed,  not  at  all  for  that,  but  rather  to  quicken 
the  spirit  of  devotion  or  sacrifice  on  which  all 
charity  must  depend.  The  assemblies,  not  per- 
haps very  large,  seemed  like  gatherings  of  people 
with  a  common  cause.  Some  series  of  preach- 
ers, perhaps  of  special  eloquence,  had  been  ap- 
pointed ;  and  on  one  occasion  the  particular 
young  man  whom  I  heard  preached  particularly 
well.  Then,  as  you  went  out,  you  found  a  table 
in  the  church  by  the  door,  at  which  sat  two 
ladies  of  the  society,  who  perhaps  gave  you  a 
report  or  received  your  contribution. 

The  impression  is  that  Spain  has  been  over- 
ridden by  mistaken  charities.  I  am  afraid  this 
is  true.     Before  the  suppression  of  the  monas- 


196  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

teries  in  1836,  about  one-fifth  of  the  whole  nation 
was  engaged  in  the  service  of  the  Church. 

Agriculturists,  laborers,  miners,  artisans,  shep- 
herds, and  sailors  constitute  two-thirds  of  the 
population ;  one-seventh  is  composed  of  mer- 
chants and  tradesmen,  another  seventh  of  offi- 
cials, the  army,  the  nobility,  the  clergy,  nuns, 
beggars,  and  pensioners.  The  nobility  is  very 
numerous;  the  lower  nobility  mostly  quite  poor, 
counting  near  one  million  hidalgos.  Beggars  are 
almost  as  numerous,  owing  partly  to  the  large 
number  of  benevolent  institutions.  In  i860 
nearly  five  hundred  thousand  persons  were  main- 
tained in  ten  hundred  and  twenty-eight  charita- 
ble institutions. 

As  we  reduce  the  payment  of  our  national 
debt  by  $100,000,000  a  year,  or  say  one-six- 
teenth part  of  it,  of  course  we  ought  to  dismiss 
one-sixteenth  part  of  the  clerks  in  the  Treasury 
every  year.  And  possibly  we  do  so.  Perhaps 
this  loyal  reader  knows.  I  do  not.  Of  course 
there  is  a  certain  friction  as  these  dismissed 
clerks  rise  to  other  and  better  work  than  treas- 
ury work.  The  stove,  the  carpet,  the  chairs  in 
Washington  must  be  sold.  The  family,  on  the- 
ory, moves  West,  and  a  cabin  is  built,  a  piano 
and  another  carpet  are  bought,  and  an  open  fire 
substituted  for  the  stove. 

Now,  let  the  reader  look  at  the  tables  above, 


KING  AND  ADMINISTRATION  1 97 

and  imagine  the  social  change  in  Spain,  when 
not  one-sixteenth  of  the  clerks  in  the  Treasury, 
but  two  million  of  the  whole  population,  were 
reformed  out  of  the  Church  offices.  If  he  will 
imagine  two  millions  of  sextons,  and  sextons' 
wives,  and  almoners,  and  sub-almoners,  and 
clerks  to  sub-almoners,  and  copyists  to  sub- 
almoners,  and  book-keepers  to  copyists  to  sub- 
almoners,  and  errand-boys  to  book-keepers  to 
copyists  to  sub-almoners,  and  finally  mothers, 
grandmothers,  and  mothers-in-law  dependent 
on  the  weekly  wages  of  the  errand-boys  to  the 
book-keepers  to  the  copyists  of  the  sub-almon- 
ers, he  will  be  able  to  begin  to  conceive  the 
practical  difficulties  which  have  flowed  in  on 
poor  Spain  as  she  attempts  to  absorb  into 
square  honest  industry,  —  such  industry  as  puts 
one  grain  of  corn  into  the  ground,  and  shows  for 
it  in  autumn  a  hundred  seeds  as  big  and  as  good, 
—  as  she  thus  absorbs  the  industry  which  had 
been  engaged  in  the  external  forms  of  charity  or 
of  religion. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PERRO  PACO  AND  THE  BULLS. 

Next  to  the  King  and  to  Senor  Sagasta,  in 
public  notoriety  or  talk,  in  the  weeks  that  we 
were  in  Madrid,  was  Perro  Paco. 

Perro  means  dog,  and  Paco  is  a  proper  name, 
which,  for  some  reason  not  known  to  me,  cor- 
responds with  Francis  or  Frances.  "  Perro 
Paco  "  means,  therefore,  "  Dog  Paco." 

Of  Perro  Paco  there  were  pictures  in  the  win- 
dows of  every  music-shop  of  note.  There  were 
waltzes  and  galops  written  in  his  honor.  The 
finest  confectioner's  shop  had  its  windows  abso- 
lutely filled  with  hundreds  of  representations  of 
him  in  sugar. 

Two  rival  journals  were  issued  wholly  in  his 
interest,  of  which  all  the  contents  were  devoted 
to  supposed  anecdotes  of  Perro  Paco,  or  other 
dog  news.  The  first  number  of  one  of  them 
had  simulated  telegrams  from  the  dog  of  Mont- 
argis,  the  dogs  of  the  Simplon,  and  other  famous 
dogs. 

The  local  editor  of  any  journal  would  have 
been  thought  very  negligent,  in  the  last  week  of 


PERRO  PACO  AND   THE  BULLS.         1 99 

my  residence  in  Madrid,  had  he  not  inserted  at 
least  one  note  with  regard  to  Perro  Paco. 

Who,  then,  was  Perro  Paco?  Alas !  the  ques- 
tion has  to  be  cast  in  the  past  tense. 

Perro  Paco  was  a  dog,  apparently  not  of  noble 
race.  It  was  said  that  he  was  not  of  any  pure 
blood  which  has  a  name,  but  that  he  was  what 
is  commonly  called  a  cur.  I  am  ashamed  to 
gay  that,  with  these  eyes,  I  never  saw  him; 
but  I  can  speak  in  concurrence  with  the  opinion 
expressed  above,  if  I  am  qualified  to  do  so  by 
seeing  several  thousand  representations  of  him. 

One  day  last  spring  Perro  Paco  appeared  for 
the  first  time  in  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  which  is,  as 
I  should  have  said,  a  sort  of  glorified  Scollay 
Square.  It  is,  perhaps,  twenty  times  as  large  in 
surface  as  is  that  liberal  breathing-place,  and  it 
has  a  large  basin  for  a  fountain  in  the  middle. 
Its  resemblance  to  Scollay  Square  consists  in 
this,  that  it  is  the  central  ganglion  of  the  circu- 
lation of  street-cars  and  omnibuses,  and  that  it 
is  the  highest  point  of  the  service  of  the  street 
railway.  The  finest  hotels  are  near  it,  gener- 
ally indeed  fronting  it 

In  the  Puerta  del  Sol  one  day  appeared  Perro 
Paco. 

How  he  came  there  I  do  not  know.  The 
newspapers  were  rather  fond  of  telling.  I  fancy 
any  bright  fellow  on  the  press  who  wanted  to 


200  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

do  his  share  for  his  "  funny  column  "  invented  a 
new  Gil  Bias  story  of  the  wanderings  of  Perro 
Paco  before  he  arrived  at  the  Puerta  del  Sol. 
But  these  stories  are  all  mythical.  Perro  Paco 
first  emerges  into  the  clear  Brush-light  of  his- 
tory on  the  day  when  he  first  appears  in  the 
Puerta  del  Sol. 

Time  came  for  lunch,  or  almuerzo,  and  Perro 
Paco  was  hungry.  He  trotted  to  the  Cafe  de 
Suiza,  the  Swiss  coffee-house,  which  has  the 
reputation  of  being  the  most  fashionable  of  the 
immense  coffee-houses  which  make  up  so  large 
a  part  of  Madrilenan  life.  At  the  Cafe  de 
Suiza  hundreds  of  persons  were  at  their  lunch, 
and  here  the  fame  of  Paco  begins.  It  is  said 
that  when  some  one  of  the  guests  threw  him  a 
bone,  Paco  refused  to  take  it.  Another  threw 
him  a  bone,  which  also  he  refused.  It  was  not 
till  a  young  gentleman  of  noble  family  threw 
him  a  piece  of  mutton  chop  that  Paco  conde- 
scended to  eat.  From  that  moment  his  fame 
was  established.  Here  was  an  aristocratic  dog, 
who  would  take  no  food  except  at  the  Suiza, 
and  even  then  would  only  take  it  from  the 
hands  of  noblemen. 

This  is  the  only  one  of  a  thousand  anecdotes 
of  Paco  which  any  one  pretended  was  true. 
For  the  rest,  every  journal  had  one  or  more  of 
his   invented    good   things.     The   theatres   had 


PERRO  PACO  AND  THE  BULLS.  201 

plays,  in  which  he  was  introduced  as  a  charac- 
ter, and  it  was  sometimes  announced  that  he 
would  be  present  in  the  audience.  I  found  he 
was  talked  about  in  joke,  as  you  might  ask 
about  a  celebrated  matador.  "  Have  you  seen 
Perro  Paco?"  But  I  am  not  sure  that  person- 
ally I  ever  saw  with  the  eye  of  the  flesh  any  one 
who,  with  the  eye  of  the  flesh,  had  looked  upon 
him. 

The  one  occasion  when  the  public  was  sure  of 
him  was  Sunday  afternoon,  when  all  the  Madrid 
beau  monde  goes  to  the  bull-fight.  Perro  Paco 
always  knew  the  day,  and  went  with  the  rest. 
To  the  delight  of  the  throng,  he  would  be  seen 
trotting  down  the  Calle  Alcala  to  the  Prado, 
and  so  to  the  Arena,  and  here  he  was  always 
admitted.  I  do  not  think  other  dogs  were  per- 
mitted there,  but  neither  door-keeper  nor  mana- 
ger would  have  cared  to  resist  the  public  feeling 
of  a  Madrid  audience,  determined  that  Perro 
Paco  should  see  the  show.  On  Monday  morn- 
ing his  presence  would  be  announced  in  the 
journal  as  regularly  as  the  King's,  if  not  with  the 
same  dignity.  And  the  audience  would  have 
felt  that  an  important  part  of  the  show  was  omit- 
ted, had  they  not  seen  Perro  Paco  as  well  as  the 
bulls. 

Alas !  poor  Paco  went  once  too  often.  On 
Sunday,  June  18th,  he  trotted  down  as  usual  to 


202  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

the  Arena,  and,  as  usual,  was  admitted.  He  was 
always  admitted  within  the  sacred  circles,  where 
the  actual  battle  goes  on  between  bulls,  horses, 
and  men.  On  this  occasion,  at  the  very  crisis 
of  one  of  the  encounters,  Perro  Paco  dashed  at 
the  bull  in  a  way  which  annoyed,  and  probably 
endangered,  the  matador  himself.  The  man 
struck  back  with  his  sword-hilt  to  give  Paco  a 
notion  that  he  was  in  the  way,  and  struck  in 
such  fashion  that  the  handle  entered  his  open 
mouth  and  wounded  him  severely.  He  was 
withdrawn  by  attendants,  evidently  in  pain. 
I  detail  these  accidents  from  the  daily  bulletins 
in  the  papers.  He  was  at  once  sent  to  a  hos- 
pital; the  best  medical  attendance  did  not 
avail,  and  after  some  days  his  death  was  an- 
nounced. 

I  left  Madrid  while  he  was  languishing,  and  I 
do  not  know  who  replaced  him  in  the  affections 
and  interest  of  the  local  reporters. 

BULL-FIGHTS. 

This  little  incident  is  really  the  most  impor- 
tant contribution  I  can  make  to  the  contempo- 
rary history  of  bull-fights.  Even  a  traveller 
has  to  "  draw  the  line  somewhere,"  and  I  drew 
it  at  the  bull-fights.  The  ladies  of  my  party 
shared   my  prejudices,  and    I    found   the  same 


PERRO  PACO  AND  THE  BULLS.  203 

feeling  and  habit  in  the  Minister  of  the  United 
States,  our  delightful  friend,  Mr.  Hamlin,  and 
his  charming  and  popular  lady.  I  am  afraid 
that  the  estimable  Ricci  went  on  Sunday  after- 
noons, but  he  was  always  home  and  at  dinner, 
and  he  was  afraid  to  tell  me  that  he  had  gone. 
So  I  can  tell  nothing  of  what  these  eyes  saw, 
though  I  could  recount  the  criticisms  of  the 
Clapps  and  Clements  of  the  Madrid  press. 
But  this  court  would  reject  such  testimony  as 
hearsay. 

I  went  one  Saturday  to  Toledo,  and  as  an 
omnibus  took  us  from  the  station  into  the  town 
I  saw  at  once  that  we  were  attended  by  a  throng 
of  admirers.  Far  too  modest  to  think  they  were 
admiring  me,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  there  was 
a  modest-looking  man  opposite  me,  in  a  short 
blue  or  purple  jacket,  adorned  with  many  frogs, 
with  a  small  cap  on  his  head,  which  did  not 
conceal  a  handsome  braid  of  black  hair,  done 
up  in  a  large  knot  behind,  as  any  lady,  who  had 
as  much  handsome  black  hair,  might  be  glad  to 
arrange  it.  This  was  a  famous  matador,  who 
was  to  be  the  star  of  the  next  day's  entertain- 
ment at  Toledo.  It  was  upon  him  that  the 
crowd  was  attending.  The  matadors  of  dis- 
tinction make  the  circuit  of  Spain,  much  as  Mr. 
Denman  Thompson  and  his  company  make  the 
circuit  of  America;  for  a  matador  carries  with 


204  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

him  his  whole  staff.  Naturally  a  man  does  not 
like  to  trust  his  own  life  to  the  chance  of  skill 
or  blundering  on  the  part  of  local  talent  sup- 
plying picadores  or  banderilleros . 

As  many  of  these  travelling  troupes  have 
their  headquarters  in  Madrid,  the  Madrid  public 
is  interested  in  their  success ;  and  on  Monday 
morning  an  important  feature  in  "  El  Liberal,"  or 
any  other  morning  paper  which  supplies  news  of 
this  sort,  will  be  the  short  telegram  from  Cadiz 
or  Seville  or  some  other  city,  which  announces 
briefly,  "  6  bulls,  3  horses  killed,  no  men." 

I  never  heard  of  a  man  being  killed  in  the 
ring  while  I  was  in  Spain,  and  I  was  in  the 
habit  of  speaking  of  the  sport  as  cowardly  and 
unfair  on  this  account.  But  since  I  left  Spain 
I  have  seen  many  gentlemen  who  had  seen 
matadors  killed  or  wounded. 

There  is  a  good  story  told  of  the  Society  for 
Preventing  Cruelty  to  Animals.  They  needed 
money  for  their  humane  purposes,  and  accord- 
ingly accepted  a  benefit  from  the  managers  of 
the  bull-fights. 

If  you  say  anything  about  cruelty  in  conver- 
sation, you  are  generally  met  with  the  remark, 
that  the  horses  are  mere  skin  and  bone,  not 
worth  five  dollars,  and  would  have  to  be  killed 
the  next  day,  anyway.  I  heard  this  said  so 
often  that  I  am  sure  it  must  be  in  print  in  some 


PERRO  PACO  AND  THE  BULLS.  20$ 

familiar  hand-book,  but  I  have  never  found  the 
public  authority. 

It  was  said  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  did 
not  go  to  a  bull-fight,  because  public  opinion  in 
England  would  not  let  him.  Once,  and  only 
once,  did  I  hear  the  amusement  reprobated  in 
Spanish  circles.  The  King  and  Court  attend 
regularly.  I  think  their  absence  would  be  un- 
favorably remarked  upon. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

TOLEDO. 

The  queer  old  city  of  Toledo  is  so  near  to 
Madrid,  perhaps  fifty  miles  away,  that  you  are 
tempted  to  regard  it  as  a  sort  of  suburb,  and 
visit  it  on  an  excursion.  Nothing  would  make 
the  handful  of  people  who  are  left  there,  of 
whom  there  are,  I  find,  fourteen  thousand,  more 
angry  than  any  such  suggestion.  The  Arch- 
bishop of  Toledo  is  the  Archbishop  of  Spain. 
It  is,  indeed,  one  of  four  or  five  capitals  which 
Philip  ruined,  when  he  transferred  the  Court  to 
Madrid.  So  I  fancy  Toledo  does  not  much  love 
Madrid,  and  would  not  like  to  be  called  a  sub- 
urb. 

I  must  once  more  beg  the  loyal  reader  to 
hunt  up  his  "  Harper's"  of  last  summer  and  read 
Mr.  Lothrop's  charming  account  of  Toledo,  and 
look  at  the  capital  illustrations  which  accompany 
it.  Really,  if  I  drew  the  illustrations  myself,  and 
Mr.  Wilson  ran  them  off  from  a  double-cylinder 
lightning  press  at  the  rate  of  four  million  an 
hour,  they  would  not  be  better.     And,  really,  if 


TOLEDO.  207 

all  the  artistic  and  aesthetic  people  in  the  world 
composed  or  invented  a  dear  old  city  of  the  age 
of  Noah,  or  of  Meshech,  of  Madai,  or  of  Tiras  (if 
by  good  fortune  this  loyal  reader,  well  trained 
in  early  history,  know  who  they  may  be),  if,  I 
say,  the  aesthetic  or  artistic  Aladdin  of  most 
skill  tried  to  make  for  you  a  queer  old  museum 
of  a  city,  with  all  the  quaint  and  strange  things 
of  old  times,  and  if,  when  he  had  done,  he  set  it 
up  opposite  to  Toledo,  Toledo  would  laugh  it  to 
scorn  from  the  window  of  every  shop.  Every 
corner,  tile,  and  brick-bat  of  Toledo  is  dead  with 
antiquity.  You  apologize  to  people  for  speak- 
ing to  them  in  Low  Latin,  the  dear  old  tangle  of 
a  place  is  so  old-fashioned. 

It  stands  on  the  banks  of  the  Tagus.  Near 
the  junction  of  the  Tagus  and  Alberche  is  Tala- 
vera  de  la  Reina,  a  burgh  or  small  town.  The 
streets  are  poorly  built  and  crooked.  This 
place  may  have  been  the  ancient  Libora.  A 
celebrated  battle  was  fought  under  its  walls  be- 
tween the  French  and  Anglo-Portuguese  armies 
in  1809.  This  action  is  what  is  known  in  his- 
tory as  the  Battle  of  Talavera,  and  to  this  hour 
old  English  soldiers  may  be  found  who  have 
inherited  badges  with  the  word  "  Talavera  "  on 
them.  Loyal  readers  will  observe  that  we  are 
now  on  the  Tagus,  the  river  which  flows  west 
to  Lisbon. 


2o8  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

The  English  general  formed  the  plan  of  march- 
ing into  Andalusia  and  uniting  the  British  forces 
with  those  of  Cuesta;  Napoleon's  departure  to 
the  Austrian  campaign  giving  him  a  favorable 
opportunity.  By  this  movement  he  hoped  to 
check  the  progress  of  the  invaders  to  the  south, 
and  endanger  their  occupation  of  Madrid.  But, 
unfortunately,  Cuesta  was  jealous  and  obstinate, 
and  gave  no  help  or  assent  to  this  plan ;  when  a 
favorable  chance  arrived  for  attacking  Victor, 
Cuesta  said  he  would  not  give  battle  on  Sunday. 
This  opportunity  having  thus  been  lost,  the  allies 
were  obliged  to  receive  battle  instead  of  giving 
it.  But  even  under  these  unfavorable  circum- 
stances the  French  were  defeated.  The  British 
forces  had  to  defend  themselves  against  double 
their  own  number,  and  Wellesley  finally  retreated 
to  Portugal  as  the  only  way  to  save  his  army. 
For  want  of  transport,  which  the  Spanish  gen- 
eral should  have  furnished,  many  of  the  wounded 
were  left  in  the  hands  of  the  French.  They  were 
treated  courteously,  but  this  gave  the  French  an 
opportunity  to  claim  the  victory  in  their  de- 
spatches, which  they  had  really  resigned  on  the 
spot,  by  flying  from  the  field. 

Sylva,  a  Spanish  historian,  supposes  that  To- 
ledo was  founded  five  hundred  years  before  the 
Christian  era  by  a  Jewish  colony  who  called  the 
town  Toledoth,  or  the  mother  of  nations. 


TOLEDO.  209 

The  most  interesting  of  buildings  are  the  ca- 
thedral, an  ancient  mosque,  and  the  Alcazar. 
The  royal  residence  of  Aranjuez,  nearly  seven 
leagues  above  Toledo,  is  surrounded  with  exten- 
sive and  beautiful  gardens.  Near  the  palace  is 
a  small  tower,  built  with  great  precision  after  a 
plan  by  one  of  the  court  architects.  There  is  a 
lovely  tradition  of  a  secret  way  from  the  Alca- 
zar to  one  of  the  outlying  palaces,  miles  away, 
which,  I  need  not  say,  is  now  lost  at  both  ends. 

The  old  city  is  like  a  robber-fastness  on  the 
cliffs  above  the  fast-rolling  river.  Note  that  the 
Tagus  supplies  the  water-power  for  the  manu- 
facture, still  famous,  of  Toledo  blades,  which  can 
be  made  as  well  now  as  they  ever  were,  if  only 
Toledo  blades  were  as  necessary  to  life,  liberty, 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  as  they  once  were. 
The  railroad  does  not  attempt  the  cliff,  and  you 
ride  up  in  an  omnibus ;  in  our  case,  as  I  said, 
we  were  accompanied  by  a  modest  but  famous 
matador. 

He  and  his  sword-boxes  and  other  parapher- 
nalia were  dropped  at  some  hotel.  But  the 
guide-books  condemn  all  the  hotels,  of  which,  in 
a  town  of  fourteen  thousand  people,  there  cannot 
be  many.  On  the  other  hand,  all  travellers  praise 
the  Casa  de  Huespedes,  which  means  "  board- 
ing-house," kept  by  two  charming  old  ladies, 
whom  I  will  not  name.  For  aught  I  know,  they 
14 


2IO  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

may  have  flirted  with  Galba  or  Martial  or  Perti- 
nax.  But  all  the  same,  they  are  tolerant  to  the 
people  of  this  time.  Some  ancestors  of  this 
generation  have  condescended  to  put  glass  win- 
dows into  the  casements.  But,  as  they  stand 
open  all  the  time,  that  does  not  much  matter; 
for  the  rest,  locks,  latches,  floors,  doors,  shut- 
ters, plan  of  the  house,  patio,  and  all  the  other 
arrangements  are  exactly  like  the  rooms  and 
fixtures  described  in  Horace,  or,  as  I  say,  in 
Terence  or  Martial.  I  am  more  and  more  a 
believer  in  the  theory,  that  schools  should  be 
taken  to  these  places  for  the  scholars  to  see 
with  their  own  eyes.  No  boy  would  ever  mis- 
construe those  most  difficult  words  cubiculum, 
atrium,  and  the  rest,  who  had  slept  in  a  cubi- 
culum  and  looked  out  upon  an  atrium.  The 
word  "  hall,"  with  which  I  was  taught  to  remem- 
ber atrium,  is  all  wrong;  patio  is  the  real  ren- 
dering. 

My  entertaining  old  friend  Malte-Brun,  the 
geographer,  says,  in  his  condescending  French 
way,  that  when  you  have  entered  Toledo  the 
only  considerable  buildings  are  the  cathedral, 
the  old  mosque,  and  the  Alcazar.  This  is  as 
little  as  if  you  said  that,  after  the  traveller  had 
crossed  the  Nile  at  Cairo,  the  only  considerable 
buildings  were  the  Sphinx  and  the  Pyramids. 
There  are  people  enough  who  will  tell  you  that 


TOLEDO.  2 1 1 

the  cathedral  at  Toledo  is  a  building  better 
worth  your  study  and  remembrance  than  St. 
Peter's  at  Rome.  Such  comparisons  are,  from 
the  nature  of  the  case,  absurd  ;  but  it  is  as  absurd 
for  the  French  geographer  to  sit  so  hard  on 
poor  Toledo,  because  it  has  within  its  walls 
only  three,  as  he  counts  them,  of  the  finest 
buildings  in  the  world.  In  truth,  many  are  to 
be  added  to  his  visit ;  but  this  reader,  safely  re- 
ferred to  Mr.  Lathrop  and  to  Amicis,  will  be 
spared  my  description. 

The  cathedral  has  some  points  of  interest 
which  none  of  the  other  cathedrals  of  the  world 
have.  I  need  not  say  that  the  guide-books,  in 
the  usual  vein  of  criticism,  condemn  this,  having 
a  feeling  that  there  exists,  in  earth  or  heaven, 
some  one  type  of  an  absolute  cathedral,  and 
that  any  divergence  from  it  is  sin.  For  my  part, 
I  had  rather  they  should  not  be  alike.  It  was 
reason  enough  for  Philip  II.  to  keep  the  capital 
at  Toledo,  that  he  had  perhaps  the  richest  ca- 
thedral in  the  world  there.  To  this  hour  there 
has  been  none  at  Madrid. 

By  the  way,  they  show  you  altars  of  which 
they  say,  "The  gold  here  was  the  first  gold 
brought  home  by  Columbus."  Generally  speak- 
ing, the  French  in  1808  carried  off  the  gold 
they  found  anywhere.  The  reader  may  remem- 
ber that  I  saw  the  absolute  first  gold  in  Charles 


212  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

V.'s  missal.  But  there  is  no  reason,  by  that,  to 
dispute  the  statement  made  here.  Columbus 
brought  more  gold  than  is  in  that  book. 

By  one  of  the  principal  doors,  as  in  many 
other  cathedrals,  is  a  gigantic  St.  Christopher 
painted  in  fresco.  The  guides  tell  Americans 
in  the  Spanish  cathedrals  that  these  figures,  far 
larger  than  any  other  pictures  in  the  churches, 
are  painted  in  honor  of  Columbus.  But  I  doubt, 
for  I  found  the  same  custom  in  Southern 
France  —  I  think  in  Toulouse,  where  there  was 
no  tradition  of  Columbus. 


A   CORO. 

As  I  have  already  said,  a  peculiarity  of  every 
large  Spanish  church  is  the  separation,  almost 
complete,  of  the  coro  from  the  rest  of  the  church. 
You  see  something  of  the  same  thing  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  where,  it  will  be  remembered,  a 
small  part  of  the  building  is  screened  off  from 
the  nave  and  aisles.  In  Spain,  what  would 
have  been  screens  anywhere  else,  become  solid 
walls  rising  perhaps  half-way  to  the  ceiling  of 
the  cathedral.  Practically,  it  is  a  church  in  the 
cathedral.  Observe  that  this  is  not  in  the  place 
which  we  call  the  choir  in  an  English  cathedral ; 
that  is  to  say,  it  is  not  at  the  extreme  eastern  end 
of  the  building.     You  will  find  at  the  end  of  the 


TOLEDO.  213 

building  an  altar,  and  very  possibly  a  chapel. 
But  the  coro  is  in  the  very  middle  of  the  build- 
ing. At  the  eastern  end  of  it,  it  has  its  own 
altar,  and  behind  this  altar,  in  all  the  cathedrals 
which  I  saw,  a  very  high  wall,  which  is,  I  suppose, 
architecturally  called  a  screen.  This  screen  is 
very  richly  decorated  with  gold,  and  especially 
with  carving.  Here,  more  than  anywhere  else, 
perhaps,  do  you  see  the  interesting  and  often 
very  beautiful  painted  statuary  which  makes  the 
distinctive  part  of  Spanish  art. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  coro,  also  screened  in 
by  high  walls,  are  the  seats  for  the  deans,  can- 
ons, and  other  clergy  or  ecclesiastics.  They  are 
ranges  of  scats,  such  as  one  sees  in  an  English 
cathedral,  and  often  all  the  resources  of  art  are 
lavished  on  their  adornment.  I  hope  I  may  be 
forgiven,  but  my  mind  always  goes  back  to  the 
type,  and  I  always  like  to  imagine  these  elegant 
carvings  as  in  very  fact  executed  by  the  knives 
of  the  worthy  men  whose  duty  it  has  been  to  sit 
in  these  seats.  Of  course  they  were  really  exe- 
cuted by  them  on  the  principle  of  "  Qui  facit per 
alium,  facit  per  se"  ("Who  works  by  another, 
works  by  himself"). 

But  I  like  to  imagine  the  worthy  priest,  fond  of 
fine  art,  who  determines  that  his  chair  shall  bear 
the  emblem  of  a  pelican  for  sacrifice,  or  a  cluster 
of  wheat  for  bounty,  or  a  dove  for  purity,  and 


214  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

then  with  his  own  hand  executes  the  same.  One 
even  thinks  of  Fra  Angelico  and  the  canon 
Alonso  at  Granada.  Nay,  my  mind  goes  back 
to  an  old  Puritan  church,  which  shall  be  name- 
less, where,  in  the  side  of  a  certain  pillar,  well 
known  to  me,  there  lingered  from  a  former  gen- 
eration the  letters  N.  and  O.,  as  they  had  been 
cut  by  some  worshipper  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury. In  such  use  of  his  hands  he  may  have 
been  able  to  keep  his  eyes  open,  and  his  ears, 
to  attend  the  better  to  the  pleading  of  the  elder 
Cooper,  on  some  drowsy  afternoon. 

Whether,  in  fact,  in  any  period  of  church  his- 
tory, customs  have  permitted  deans  and  can- 
ons, with  their  own-  knives,  to  carve  upon  the 
posts  of  their  chairs,  I  do  not  know  ;  but  if  they 
have  not  done  it  by  their  own  hands,  they  have 
done  it  by  others  at  Toledo.  And  the  result  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  exhibitions  of  wood- 
carving  in  the  world,  worthy  not  simply  of  the 
hurried  research  of  half  an  hour,  but  of  the  care- 
ful study  of  weeks  by  the  artist  with  drawing- 
book  in  hand. 

We  were  at  Toledo  on  Sunday,  and  I  took 
care  to  be  present  at  the  Mozarabic  chapel,  in  the 
cathedral,  that  I  might  see  and  hear  the  curious 
Mozarabic  liturgy  which  I  have  described,  the 
last  survival  of  the  service  of  the  original  or 
national  church  of  Spain,  for  the  maintenance 


TOLEDO.  215 

of  which  the  great  Cardinal  Ximenes  left  a 
fund.  But  for  his  zeal  I  am  afraid  it  would 
have  died  out.  It  is  different  from  the  Roman 
service  at  almost  every  point ;  the  most  striking 
peculiarity  which  can  be  described,  perhaps, 
being,  if  I  understand  rightly,  that  there  is  a 
separate  collect  and  other  selections  for  every 
separate  day  of  the  year.  At  the  period  when 
we  attended  the  Mozarabic  service  we  were  the 
only  persons  present,  excepting  the  priests  and 
acolytes.  There  were  several  churches  in  Toledo 
which  maintained  this  rite  in  Ximenes's  day; 
but  this  chapel  is  now  the  only  one. 

The  patron  saint  of  the  cathedral  is  Saint  Ilde- 
fonso,  and  this  is  the  spot  where  he  received 
the  chasuble  from  the  Virgin.  That  legend  is 
well  known  from  the  print,  not  unfamiliar,  of 
Murillo's  beautiful  picture  of  the  subject.  The 
Virgin  and  two  angels  are  about  to  invest  the 
archbishop,  who  kneels  reverently,  with  the 
chasuble.  Behind  him  is  a  nun,  an  old  woman 
with  a  lighted  taper;  Murillo  is  fond  of  good 
old  women,  as  what  true  man  is  not?  There  is 
apt  to  be  one,  if  possible,  in  his  larger  compo- 
sitions. The  Virgin  sits  in  Ildefonso's  ivory 
chair,  the  bishop  kneeling  in  front.  Since  that 
time,  the  legend  says,  no  one  has  ventured  to  sit 
in  that  chair  but  the  Archbishop  Sisibcrt.  Him 
indignant  angels  hurled  from  it,  and  he  died  mis- 


2l6  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

erably.  The  Moors  carried  away  the  body  of 
Ildefonso  and  the  chasuble.  But  it  is  said  that 
the  chasuble  is  now  in  Oviedo,  although  invisible 
to  mortal  eyes. 

Ildefonso  lived  in  the  seventh  century,  holding 
this  see  from  the  year  657  to  667.  He  wrote  a 
treatise  on  the  perpetual  virginity  of  the  Holy 
Mother,  and  it  was  this  which  won  him  her 
favor. 

There  is  in  Toledo  a  world  of  antiquarian 
wealth  illustrating  the  Moorish  period,  and 
there  are  some  curious  relics  of  the  Jews. 

As  we  left  our  hospitable  friends  of  the  Casa 
de  Huespedes,  I  asked  the  major-domo  how  old 
the  house  was. 

"Ah!  quien  sabe,  senor?"  ("Who  knows, 
sir?") 

I  said,  No,  no  one  knew,  but  they  could  make 
a  guess  within  a  century  or  so. 

Oh,  yes !  they  could  guess  within  a  century. 
Yonder  was  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  old  owner, 
or  his  symbolic  crest.  He  was  a  Goth,  and  the 
Goths  were  driven  out  in  the  seventh  century. 
The  house  was  .built  a  hundred  or  two  years 
before  that  time. 

The  house  was  in  all  probability  thirteen  or 
fourteen  hundred  years  old.  I  should  have 
guessed  as  much  from  the  patches  and  darns  in 
the  velarium,  or  awning,  which  our  dear  old  hos- 


TOLEDO.  217 

tesses,  with  loving  care,  were  repairing,  that  it 
might  for  its  fourteen  hundredth  summer  keep 
off  the  nearly  vertical  sun  from  their  plants, 
almost  tropical,  which  they  had  in  large  pots  in 
the  patio  or  atrium  below. 

Blessings  on  them  for  their  lovely  hospitality ! 
We  bade  them  good-by;  we  hoped  we  should 
come  again  to  stay  longer ;  and  we  returned  to 
Madrid. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MUSEUMS   IN  MADRID. 

The  armoury  of  Madrid  has  the  reputation  of 
being  in  some  regards  the  finest  in  Europe,  and 
I  should  think  it  deserved  it.  It  was  closed  for 
extensive  cleaning,  polishing,  and  rearrangement. 
But  the  uniform  Spanish  courtesy  admitted  us, 
when  I  sent  in  to  the  administration  a  note  say- 
ing that  I  was  a  stranger,  who  must  soon  leave 
town ;  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  we  had  some  advan- 
tages in  seeing  things  as  they  were  taken  to 
pieces,  and  in  the  explanations  which  a  set  of 
intelligent  workmen  and  connoisseurs  kindly 
gave,  who  would  not  have  been  there  but  for 
the  repairs. 

The  arms  are  all  kept  in  exquisite  order,  as 
a  man  might  keep  a  few  pet  weapons  of  his  own. 
The  collection  is  historical,  and  runs  back  as  far 
at  least  as  my  house  at  Toledo.  After  reading 
Irving's  Granada,  and  basking  in  those  hot  ac- 
counts of  fight  between  Saracen  and  Christian 
knight,  it  was  very  interesting  to  see  the  actual 
coats-of-arms    of   Boabdil    and    of   his    victors. 


MUSEUMS  IN  MADRID.  219 

The  Cid's  sword  is  here,  and  every  style  of 
Moorish  weapon  and  Moorish  defensive  armor, 
from  the  days  of  the  first  invasion  down  to  the 
battle  of  Lepanto,  of  which  there  are  many 
relics. 

Among  more  modern  weapons  are  curious 
specimens  of  the  early  breech-loaders.  I  re- 
membered with  interest  some  recent  discussion 
as  to  the  origin  of  the  flint-lock,  which  has  been, 
erroneously,  ascribed  to  New  England  inge- 
nuity. Here  is  an  exquisite  flint-lock  firearm, 
inlaid  with  great  beauty,  which  was  a  present 
to  Philip  IV.,  somewhere  in  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  or  perhaps  a  little  earlier. 
It  is,  I  think,  a  little  curious  that  the  ordinary 
books  of  reference  do  not  condescend  to  tell  at 
what  time  flint-locks  were  invented  or  came  into 
general  use. 

This  museum  is  in  a  sort  of  wing  of  the  great 
Royal  Palace,  which  deserves,  I  suppose,  its  rep- 
utation of  being  the  finest  palace  in  Europe. 
When  Napoleon  left  his  brother  there,  he  is  said 
to  have  told  him  that  he  would  be  better  lodged 
than  he  was  himself. 

There  must  have  been  some  sort  of  royal  edi- 
fice in  Madrid  from  a  very  early  period.  King 
Ramiro  in  the  year  939  took  from  the  Arabs  the 
town  of  Magerit,  which  was  on  the  site  of  Ma- 
drid.    At  that  early  period  the  original  Alcazar 


220  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

stood  on  the  site  of  the  present  palace.  A  suc- 
cession of  buildings  followed  each  other,  on  the 
same  spot,  of  which  the  last  was  burned  in  1734. 
The  present  palace  was  then  begun,  and  after 
half  a  century  or  more  it  took  its  present  form. 
The  successive  architects  were  Jubarra  and  Sa- 
chetti. 

The  proper  front  faces  the  city,  and  with  two 
wings  running  forward  encloses  a  fine  square  on 
three  sides.  The  basement  is  largely  occupied 
by  the  library,  which  I  have  already  described. 
It  also  gives  rooms  for  the  offices  of  the  royal 
domain. 

The  State  apartments  are  upstairs.  I  will 
not  attempt  the  difficult  task  of  describing  vast 
and  magnificent  saloons ;  but  there  is  one  small 
cabinet  which  I  commend  to  the  attention  of 
lovers  of  ceramics. 

The  whole  wall  of  this  beautiful  chamber  is 
porcelain.  The  groundwork  of  the  whole  is  of 
dead  gold  color.  From  this  rises  a  porcelain 
decoration  or  framework,  shall  I  say,  which  is 
also  of  porcelain,  of  white,  of  green,  and  of  dead 
gold.  Framed  by  these  decorations  are  differ- 
ent subjects,  all  treated  in  white  porcelain  of  a 
creamy  color,  of  what  connoisseurs  will  know  as 
pate  tcndre.  This  exquisite  piece  of  work  was 
made  at  the  royal  manufactory  at  the  Buen 
Retire     It  is  ascribed  to  Joseph  Grice,  who  was 


MUSEUMS  IN  MADRID.  221 

at  the  head  of  this  factory  one  hundred  and 
twenty  years  ago. 

I  may  say,  in  passing,  that,  judging  from  what 
I  saw  in  public  and  private  collections,  and  from 
what  you  stumble  upon  in  out-of-the-way  shops 
and  villages,  Spain  would  be  a  very  tempting 
field  for  a  fanciful  collector  of  pottery.  The 
glazed  tiles  of  Seville  are  so  large,  so  handsome, 
and  so  cheap,  that  I  should  think  that  any  archi- 
tect who  had  occasion  to  use  many  tiles  would 
do  well  to  make  inquiries  in  Seville  before  he 
provided  himself  in  England  or  in  America. 

THE    MUSEUM    OF    ART. 

I  had  often  heard  the  gallery  of  Madrid  also 
spoken  of  as  perhaps  the  finest  in  Europe ;  but 
I  had  not  before  understood  that  it  is  not  only 
this,  but  one  of  the  largest:  The  collection,  as 
it  now  stands,  was  brought  together  by  Isabella 
and  her  father  within  the  present  century.  Fer- 
dinand took  possession  of  a  building  designed  by 
the  architect  Villanueva,  in  1735,  for  a  natural 
history  museum,  and  did  what  he  could  to  fit  it 
for  a  gallery,  and  collected  here  the  finest  paint- 
ings in  the  different  royal  residences,  as  well,  I 
believe,  as  those  which  had  been  recovered  from 
France  after  Napoleon  had  captured  them  in  his 
Spanish  campaign.     The  gallery,  as  we  now  see 


222  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

it,  was  opened  in  1819.  It  has  been  steadily  im- 
proving ever  since  under  the  intelligent  manage- 
ment of  the  two  Madrazos,  father  and  son,  and 
of  Don  Pedro  de  Madrazo,  to  whom  we  owe  the 
admirable  catalogue,  and  to  whose  personal 
courtesies  we  were  indebted  every  day. 

I  will  follow  the  example  of  a  more  distin- 
guished traveller  in  leaving  it  to  learned  fingers 
and  wise  hands  to  describe  the  indescribable. 

Without  entering  into  detail,  it  is  enough  to 
say  that  the  Spanish  monarchs  had  the  right  of 
sovereigns  with  regard  to  all  the  best  of  the  fine 
arts  of  the  Low  Countries,  from  the  time  when 
oil  painting  was  invented  there ;  and  so  you 
have  here  the  most  admirable  examples  of  the 
very  earliest  Dutch  and  Flemish  painters,  and 
of  Vandyke  and  Rubens.  Then  in  their  own 
country  they  had  Alonso  Cano,  Velasquez,  and 
Murillo.  They  did  not  despise  them,  but  knew 
their  worth  to  the  very  full.  At  the  time  of 
Leonardo,  Raphael,  and  the  rest  in  Italy,  when 
Italian  art  was  at  its  very  best,  Spain  was  at  her 
very  grandest,  and  her  sovereigns,  fond  of  art, 
were  able  to  buy  anything  they  chose.  Thus,  in 
a  collection  where  the  masterpieces  have  been 
brought  together  from  all  the  palaces 'in  Spain 
and  from  many  of  her  churches,  this  gallery  can 
boast  of  more  examples  of  the  very  first  order, 
if  you  count  two  great  European  schools,  than 
is  possible  anywhere  else. 


MUSEUMS  IN  MADRID.  223 

As  for  Velasquez,  whom  Philip  IV.  called 
"  his  only  painter,"  he  cannot  be  thoroughly 
studied  anywhere  else.  This  very  summer,  one 
picture  of  his  was  sold  at  auction  in  London  to 
the  National  Gallery  for  £  10,000.  I  do  not 
know  how  many  there  are  in  Madrid,  but  of 
large  pictures  of  his  there  are  certainly  more 
than  fifty  kings,  queens,  infants,  dwarfs,  court 
fools,  ruffians,  every-day  people  of  every  rank, 
every  costume,  and  every  occupation,  the  most 
vulgar  or  the  most  princely,  Velasquez  transfers 
them  all  to  his  canvas,  and  gives  to  each  that  in- 
tensity, that  tremor  of  life  itself,  which  in  each  of 
his  works  makes  a  masterpiece  absolutely  unique 
in  the  domain  of  painting.  I  follow  the  lan- 
guage of  Roswag's  spirited  guide-book.  The 
same  writer  says,  and  so  far  as  I  have  any  right 
I  like  to  indorse  the  remark,  "  You  may  com- 
pare all  these  surprising  creations  of  his  pencil 
with  the  most  perfect  work  in  portraiture  of  the 
greatest  artists  and  those  most  esteemed  in  the 
Italian,  Flemish,  and  Dutch  schools,  and  the 
contrast  will  simply  show  the  astonishing  superi- 
ority of  Velasquez.  In  the  midst  of  all  these 
men  of  illustrious  genius,  if  you  take  the  point  of 
view  of  reality,  of  life,  and  of  truth,  he  is  the 
only  one  who  knows  how  to  express  himself 
without  convention,  without  apparent  fiction, 
and,  to  say  everything  in  one  word,  without 
artifice." 


224  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

As  late  as  1830  no  separate  head  was  given  to 
Velasquez's  name  in  the  "  Encyclopaedia  Ameri- 
cana." In  most  works  of  artistic  criticism  in 
that  time  and  earlier  he  will  be  found  neglected 
in  like  wise.  I  think  such  neglect  is  due  wholly 
to  his  popularity  in  Spain  and  to  the  seclusion 
of  this  peninsula.  They  would  not  let  his  pic- 
tures go  away.  There  are,  therefore,  very  few 
in  foreign  collections,  and  through  the  seven- 
teenth and  eighteenth  centuries  there  were  so 
few  travellers  in  Spain  from  the  rest  of  Europe 
who  dared  to  express  an  opinion  on  painting, 
that  the  reputation  which  he  had  at  home  did 
not  extend  farther  than  Spain.  It  is  a  good 
instance  of  the  "  prophet  honored  in  his  own 
country,"  before  he  is  heard  of  elsewhere. 

But  why  does  not  the  same  rule  hold  for 
Murillo?  Murillo  was  certainly  known  outside 
of  Spain.  You  can  find  admirable  pictures  of 
his  in  Italy,  in  Bavaria,  in  France,  in  England, 
one  at  least  in  Boston.  This  is  a  hard  question. 
Oddly  enough,  like  most  hard  questions,  it  re- 
ceives two  answers  quite  opposite  to  each  other. 
One  set  of  critics  say  that  he  painted  the  Virgin 
in  a  way  so  admirably  in  accordance  with 
church  traditions,  that  he  had  the  whole  machin- 
ery of  the  Roman  Church  on  his  side  to  carry 
his  renown  anywhere.  Another  authority  says, 
"  He  seems  to  have  possessed  the  power  of  adapt- 

V 


MUSEUMS  IN  MADRID.  22$ 

ing  the  higher  subjects  of  art  to  the  common 
understanding,  and  succeeded  in  at  once  capti- 
vating the  learned  and  unlearned.  Hence  the 
universal  popularity  of  his  works  throughout 
Europe,  notwithstanding  Ruskin  places  him 
among  the  base  artists."  I  suppose  that  just 
what  Ruskin  meant  was  that  Murillo  worked  for 
a  reputation,  and  that  only  those  people  are  on 
the  highest  grade  who  "  make  themselves  of  no 
reputation."  It  is  to  be  observed,  in  this  con- 
nection, that  when  Murillo  wanted  money  for 
travel  he  "  executed  a  number  of  pictures  for 
the  colonial  market,  which  were  distributed  by 
traders  through  the  Spanish  American  posses- 
sions." Moral :  If  you  want  a  wide  reputation 
in  the  world,  scatter  your  work  through  America. 
Pardon  this  digression,  loyal  reader.  What 
you  and  I  have  to  observe  of  him,  in  the  muse- 
um of  the  Prado,  is  that  here  are  twenty-nine  of 
Murillo's  noblest  pictures.  Here  among  others 
are  the  Virgin  presenting  the  chasuble  to  Ilde- 
fonso,  the  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds,  the  Divine 
Shepherd,  St.  John  Baptist  as  a  child,  Jesus  and 
John  as  children,  and  the  Education  of  the  Vir- 
gin, which  you  and  I  have  had  hung  before  our 
eyes  in  the  hard  but  accurate  Spanish  prints 
since  1829;  nay,  on  copies  of  which  we  have 
exercised  our  infant  pencils,  and,  later  yet,  our 
manly  cameras.     As  in  the  case  of  Velasquez, 


226  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

most  of  the  Murillos  hang  together  in  a  hall 
given  to  the  Spanish  school,  and  there  is  a  sort 
of  satisfaction  in  seeing  them  illustrated  and  ex- 
plained by  each  other,  just  as  there  is  in  seeing 
Velasquez  thus  illustrated  and  explained. 

I  say  nothing  of  Goya,  of  whom  the  books 
say  much,  because  I  do  not  believe  in  him  at  all. 

Everybody  who  owns  even  five  framed  photo- 
graphs knows  that  there  is  a  certain  pleasure  in 
taking  them  down  from  time  to  time,  and' hang- 
ing them  in  new  places.  It  is  analogous  to  the 
profound  satisfaction  of  putting  your  bed  where 
the  wardrobe  was,  the  wardrobe  where  the  bu- 
reau was,  and  the  bureau  where  the  bed  was.  It 
makes  a  great  row,  and  it  saves  ever  so  much 
room. 

I  need  not  say  that  such  change  of  pictures 
goes  on  from  time  to  time  in  the  Royal  Gallery, 
because  such  is  the  law  of  galleries  and  public 
libraries.  You  never  visit  one  but  they  "  are 
making  a  change  in  the  arrangement,  which  will 
be  a  great  improvement  when  it  is  done." 

So  is  it  that  sometimes  the  Isabella  salon  con- 
tains one  set  of  pictures  and  sometimes  another. 
But  it  always  means  to  contain  the  best.  It  is  a 
sort  of  tribune,  only  much  larger.  It  is  com- 
fortable, well  lighted ;  and  here  you  bask  in  the 
light  and  blessedness  of  a  hundred,  more  or  less, 
of  the  most  exquisite  pictures  in  the  world. 


MUSEUMS  IN  MADRID.  22J 

And,  to  bring  up  with  a  very  short  turn  what 
there  is  to  say  of  this  marvellous  gallery,  —  not 
to  be  tempted  forward  or  backward  into  raving 
about  the  pictures,  and  so  breaking  a  firm  reso- 
lution not  to  rave,  —  to  speak  of  those  carnal 
matters  which  in  fact  affect  Thomas,  Richard, 
Henry,  and  their  congeners  in  this  world,  all  the 
people  who  carry  on  the  externals  of  the  gallery 
are  nice  to  you.  They  like  to  have  you  come, 
and  they  are  sorry  to  have  you  go  away.  From 
the  man  at  the  door  who  takes  your  umbrella, 
all  the  way  up  to  Senor  Don  Jose  Madrazo,  the 
accomplished  artist  who  oversees  the  collection, 
every  one  is  good  to  you.  It  is  not  as  in  the 
Louvre,  or  in  galleries  I  have  seen  nearer  home, 
where  they  wish  there  were  no  visitors  to  the 
gallery,  or  as  sacristans  of  churches  sometimes 
wish  no  one  would  come  to  church.  On  the 
other  hand,  everybody  is  pleased  that  more  vis- 
itors have  come.  And  the  worse  the  Spanish  of 
those  visitors  the  more  they  seem  to  be  pleased. 

They  are  not  overrun  with  visitors.  They  do 
not  think  that  you  are  a  wretched  tourist  "doing 
the  gallery."  They  receive  you  as  Mr.  Barton 
would  receive  a  stranger  who  comes  to  Worces- 
ter to  the  Antiquarian  Society,  and  wants  to 
draw  the  Michael  Angelo's  Moses,  or  to  consult 
an  old  volume  of  the  "  News-Lctter."  They 
seem  to  know  that  you  are  decent  people,  and 
are  really  interested  in  their  treasures. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

OUT-DOORS     LIFE. 

As  has  been  already  said,  perhaps,  no  one 
goes  into  the  streets  between  twelve  and  three 
unless  he  be  a  Franccse  or  a  perro,  —  a  for- 
eigner or  a  dog.  Those  sacred  hours  are  re- 
served for  the  siesta.  Siesta  means  the  sixth 
hour,  and  if  you  count  from  average  sunrise, 
the  sixth  hour  will  be  at  noon.  At  noon  every 
sensible  man  and  woman  will  retire  for  his  daily 
doze. 

This  reader  may  not  be  old  enough  to  remem- 
ber the  battle  of  San  Jacinto  in  Texas,  in  which 
the  independence  of  Texas  from  Mexico  was 
assured.     It  depended  on  the  siesta. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  noon,  the  Mexican  army 
retired  for  this  necessary  repose.  At  one  P.  M., 
or  thereabout,  when  they  were  in  the  best  of  it, 
General  Houston  with  his  rabble  rout  of  Texans 
and  of  Kentuckians,  half  horse  and  half  alligator, 
attacked  them,  and  in  a  very  few  moments  the 
battle  was  over,  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  sleep- 
ing party. 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  229 

After  three  o'clock,  the  streets  of  Madrid  look 
a  little  more  lively;  after  four,  a  good  many- 
people  are  in  motion ;  after  five,  carriages  be- 
gin to  drive  to  the  Prado. 

Prado  originally  meant  Pratus,  which  means 
a  meadow.  The  little  stream  on  which  Madrid 
stands  meandered  through  it,  I  suppose,  though 
I  cannot  say  I  remember  that  I  have  seen  it 
there.  Prado  now  means  a  broad  street,  not  un- 
like Commonwealth  Avenue,  running  straight 
for  several  miles.  It  has  lately  been  lengthened, 
and  the  resemblance  to  Commonwealth  Avenue 
holds,  in  the  new  buildings,  some  of  them  pal- 
aces, which  you  may  see  going  up  at  the  sides 
in  the  newer  points.  For  the  rest,  there  are 
gardens  or  fine  houses  or  palaces  on  each  side. 
Some  of  the  government  offices  are  there.  The 
great  museum  of  pictures  is  generally  called  the 
Musco  del  Prado.  The  garden  of  the  Horticul- 
tural Society  is  there. 

The  Prado  differs  from  Commonwealth  Ave- 
nue in  this:  inside  the  roadways  are  lines  of 
little  chairs,  wire-seated  and  painted  yellow, 
lines  which  are  miles  long,  for  the  people  like 
you  and  me  to  sit  in,  who  have  no  carriages, 
unless  a  friend  invites  us  to  drive. 

These  chairs  are  superintended  and  adminis- 
tered by  the  men  and  women  who  have  charge 
of  the  drinking-booths,  if  I  may  so  call  them. 


230  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

They  are  movable  counters,  from  which  is  dis- 
pensed the  sugared  water  and  lemonade  and 
ordiata  necessary  for  so  large  a  throng  as 
assembles  in  the  Prado. 

I  have  sometimes  seen  behind  the  counter  or 
bar  of  the  smallest  country  tavern  a  cupboard  in 
which  all  the  bottles,  decanters,  glasses,  and 
other  paraphernalia  of  potations  could  be  locked 
up  at  night  together.  Imagine  such  a  cupboard, 
just  big  enough  for  two  men  to  handle,  perhaps 
six  feet  high  and  five  feet  wide.  Imagine  it 
standing  on  a  table  or  counter,  and  so  arranged 
that  its  doors  shall  enlarge  this  table  when  they 
fall,  and  it  is  opened.  Hundreds  of  such  stands, 
thousands  perhaps,  occupy  the  long  spaces 
between  the  lines  of  chairs,  which,  as  I  have 
said,  are  reserved  for  the  loafers  and  pedestrians 
on  the  Prado.  Through  the  day,  most  of  the 
cupboards  are  locked.  As  evening  approaches 
they  are  all  open,  and  one  or  two  brisk  attend- 
ants at  each  are  ready  to  dispense  the  needed 
refreshments. 

Several  very  fine  fountains  are  among  the 
ornaments  of  the  Prado,  and  the  water-carriers 
pass  up  and  down  from  fountain  to  booth,  so 
that  the  supply  shall  never  fail. 

Looking  back  on  all  this,  after  six  or  eight 
months,  it  seems  to  me  queer  that  I  cannot  say 
whether  wine  or  spirit  is  never  sold  here ;  for  the 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  23 1 

question  of  perpendicular  drinking  is  the  cen- 
tral question  of  the  civilization  of  modern  cities, 
and  interests  me  deeply.  It  seems  impossible, 
writing  in  Boston,  that  neither  wine  nor  spirit 
should  be  sold  in  so  many  of  these  stalls.  But 
I  think  it  is  not.  I  certainly  never  saw  any  one 
ask  for  any  or  take  any. 

The  drink  of  nineteen  out  of  twenty  of  those 
who  refresh  themselves  is  sugared  water.  For 
this  the  sugar  has  been  blown  up  into  an  aerated 
puff,  like  the  sugar  in  the  crust  of  a  meringue. 
It  is  given  you  with  the  tumbler  of  water  and 
with  a  spoon.  It  is  so  light  that  it  dissolves 
almost  instantly,  and  you  use  as  much  or  as  lit- 
tle as  your  taste  demands. 

If  you  are  more  exacting,  you  ask  for  lemon- 
ade, or  you  may  have  orange  juice  for  your 
water. 

If  you  are  very  hot,  and  need  food  as  well  as 
liquid,  you  order  an  orchata.  An  orchata  is  a 
very  mild  ice-cream,  —  I  should  say  without 
much  cream.  The  basis  is  some  sort  of  creamy 
seed  rubbed  together  into  a  paste,  and  mingled 
with  the  water,  milk,  or  cream,  which  are  frozen 
into  a  mass  precisely  resembling  ice-cream. 

This  you  eat  by  suction,  as  I  am  told  the 
» thoughtless  sons  of  Belial  absorb  sherry  cob- 
blers ;  only  they,  if  I  am  rightly  informed,  use 
straws,  or,  in  abodes  of  luxury,  glass  tubes.     In 


232  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

Madrid  you  are  served  with  the  orchata  in  a  tall 
glass,  and  with  a  dozen  little  rolls  of  very  thin 
paste,  precisely  like  what  we  eat  with  ice-cream, 
but  rolled  into  rolls  as  small  as  a  cigar,  and  so 
tight  that  you  can  readily  suck  through  them. 
You  put  one  of  these  into  the  bottom  of  the 
tumbler  and  irhbibe  the  mixture  as  it  slowly 
melts  so  as  to  arrive  at  the  point  of  fluidity. 

The  extreme  temperance  of  the  people  of 
Madrid  is  very  noteworthy.  For  those  who  are 
not  on  the  Prado  there  are  open  enormous  cafes, 
where  this  same  imbibing  of  sugared  water,  of 
lemonade,  and  of  orcJiata  is  going  on.  We  have 
no  public  rooms  in  Boston  which  approach  the 
size  of  the  largest  of  these  coffee-houses,  except- 
ing the  great  halls  of  the  two  Institutes.  I  do 
not  say  that  men  could  not  order  spirit  in  these 
halls.  I  have  no  doubt  they  can.  But  they  do 
not  seem  to,  as  our  charming  New  England 
expression  has  it.  They  smoke,  they  sip  sug- 
ared water,  or  they  sip  cool  milk  and  water,  and 
talk  politics,  by  the  hour.  But  they  do  not 
drink  spirit  or  wine  or  beer. 

This  excursus  of  mine  on  the  physical  refresh- 
ments of  the  Prado  has  kept  us  so  long  from  the 
matter  which  took  us  there,  the  daily  drive,  or 
procession,  extending  far  into  the  evening,  in 
which  the  Madrilenos  and  Madrilefias  take  the 
air,  and  see  each  other. 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  233 

In  the  broad  driveway  of  the  Prado  are  two 
lines  of  carriages  moving  in  each  direction, 
under  a  law  of  the  road  exactly  like  that  on  the 
Brighton  road  in  winter.  Only  the  inner  lines, 
at  the  Prado,  are  not  the  carriages  of  the  fast 
trotters ;  they  are  the  carriages  of  the  King  and 
Court  and  of  the  Diplomatic  Corps.  These  and 
these  only  may  ride  there.  Their  footmen  are 
distinguished  by  cockades  which  reveal  the  privi- 
lege. Indeed,  I  suppose  the  crests  on  the  car- 
riages would  show  it. 

On  the  outside  are  two  compact  lines  of  car- 
riages moving  along  at  an  even  pace,  almost 
always  open,  and  containing  ladies  and  gentle- 
men in  full  dress. 

Gentlemen  on  horseback  are  scudding  in  and 
out,  precisely  as  you  may  see  them  at  Hyde 
Park  in  London.  But  the  Prado  is  much  longer 
than  the  largest  drive  in  the  Park,  and  the  at- 
tendance of  carriages  is  larger  every  day  than  I 
ever  saw  there,  excepting  on  some  special  fes- 
tival. 

In  fact,  as  I  suppose,  the  Prado  takes,  to  a 
large  degree,  the  place  of  other  social  machin- 
ery. For  three  or  four  hours  of  every  day  you 
see  your  friends  there.  True,  you  only  talk  with 
those  who  are  in  your  own  carriage,  or,  if  you  are 
on  horseback,  you  may  engage  in  conversation, 
after  a  fashion,  with  those  by  whom  you  ride. 


234  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

I  was  in  Madrid  at  the  end  of  June.  The  days, 
of  course,  were  at  their  longest,  and  the  evening 
air  was  invariably  soft  and  agreeable.  Ladies 
rode  in  light  summer  costume,  and  wore  hats, 
which  they  would  not  have  worn  in  the  morning 
in  going  to  church.  For  a  lady  to  have  a  hat 
on  in  church  would  be,  I  think,  a  certain  jBign 
that  she  was  a  foreigner. 

Somebody  told  me  that  a  Spanish  family 
whose  fortunes  were  declining  would  endure  any 
other  pressure  of  poverty  rather  than  the  loss  of 
carriage  and  horses.  I  was  told  that  gentlemen 
or  ladies  would  live  in  great  penury,  and  even 
obscurity,  if  they  could  only  keep  up  the  daily 
ride  in  the  Prado,  and  so  retain  the  joy  of  seeing 
and  being  seen.  This  may  be  a  mere  guide- 
book story.  I  know  very  well  how  deceptive 
such  sweeping  statements  are.  But  the  number 
of  carriages  fitted  simply  for  this  purpose  — 
open  barouches,  fit  for  those  seeing  and  being 
seen  —  is  certainly  remarkable.  I  do  not  think 
that  we  approach  it  in  Boston,  which  is  a  city  of 
about  the  same  population  as  Madrid,  and,  as  I 
suppose,  of  much  greater  wealth. 

Shall  we  perhaps  drop  into  a  similar  fashion 
here  when  the  new  Park  begins  to  be  attractive? 
Will  the  people  who  have  handsome  turnouts 
drive  out  on  one  side  of  Commonwealth  Avenue, 
take  a  little  turn  in  the  Park,  drive  back  on  the 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  235 

other  side,  and  repeat  the  same  thing  half  a 
dozen  times  in  the  long  summer  afternoons  and 
evenings  of  June?  Shall  we  bow  to  Miss  Cham- 
pernoun  and  touch  our  hats  to  the  adorable 
Miss  Krossandkrown?  Shall  we  smile  sweetly 
on  Mr.  Holworthy  as  he  rises  in  his  stirrups,  and 
lifts  his  hat  wholly  from  his  curls,  or  shall  we 
make  Mr.  Fortinbras  perfectly  happy  by  invit- 
ing him  to  take  the  fourth  seat  in  the  carriage, 
because  Papa's  gout  keeps  him  at  home  ?  Quien 
sabe  ? 

There  would  be  more  chance  of  our  going  into 
this  Prado  life  in  Boston  if  June  were  a  hundred 
and  fifty  days  long,  or  if  May  were  a  little 
warmer.  And,  as  things  are,  we  hurry  away 
before  June  is  well  over  or  even  before  May 
begins,  to  hide  ourselves  in  Swampscott,  the 
Shoals,  or  at  Mt.  Desert.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed, also,  that  we  are  very  much  afraid  of 
each  other,  and  distrust  any  approach  to  what 
the  rest  of  the  world  call  society. 

We  were  most  kindly  welcomed  in  one  or  two 
charming  homes.  Beyond  this,  so  short  a  visit 
gives  me  no  right  to  speak  personally  of  do- 
mestic life.  The  habits  of  daily  life,  as  they 
appear  to  a  stranger,  show  the  effect  of  cli- 
mate and  religion ;  but  I  suppose  nice  people 
are  nice  people  everywhere,  and  the  best  so- 
cial life  in  Spain  is  probably  much  like  the  best 


236  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

social  life  anywhere  else.  The  churches  are  open 
every  day,  and  I  think  that  women  go  to  church 
almost  daily.  You  meet  in  the  streets,  every 
morning,  many  with  their  maids,  the  mistress 
with  prayer-book  in  hand,  each  wearing  a  man- 
tilla and  not  a  hat  or  bonnet,  which,  as  I  have 
said,  is  not  according  to  rule  in  church. 

The  bookstores  are  well  filled  with  good  books 
and  bad ;  and  there  is  a  good  deal  of  activity 
in  publication.  The  printing  is  good,  the  whole 
style  of  a  book  being  quite  up  to  that  of  the 
Paris  workshops. 

I  was  inquiring  for  an  impression  of  an  old 
engraving  of  Murillo,  very  dear  to  me  from 
early  associations,  when  I  was  told  to  go  for  it 
to  the  establishment  where  it  was  engraved,  the 
government  engraving  office,  where  they  still 
had  the  plate,  and  still  sold  impressions. 

As  the  engraving  was  not  much  more  than  a 
hundred  years  old,  it  showed  what  an  American 
I  was,  that  I  had  not  thought  of  this  before. 

Accordingly  I  soon  found  myself  there.  The 
engraving  offices  occupy  one  flat  in  the  Acad- 
emy of  Fine  Arts,  on  the  street  of  Alcala,  and 
here  I  found  courteous  and  intelligent  workmen, 
keeping  up  the  traditions  of  the  office  admirably 
well,  and  ready  and  glad  to  sell  the  impressions 
of  any  of  their  plates  at  prices  perfectly  fair, 
which  seemed  to  me  very  low. 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  237 

The  establishment  must  have  been  founded,  I 
think,  as  early  as  the  days  of  Charles  IV.,  the 
onlv  king  between  Ferdinand  and  the  present 
king  who  seems  to  have  even  attempted  any- 
thing good.  Collectors  of  prints  will  remember 
the  series  which  represents  the  paintings  in  the 
Royal  Gallery.  Scmla,  among  others,  was  a 
professor  in  the  Academy  here,  and  the  plates 
of  his  work  are  in  this  collection.  The  office 
goes  on  its  quiet  way.  They  offered  me  proofs 
of  the  admirable  print  which  they  had  just 
issued,  from  an  engraving  executed  there  of  a 
great  historical  picture,  now  on  exhibition  at  the 
palace. 

So  in  the  midst  of  wars  and  rumors  of  wars  — 
Napoleon,  Joseph,  Ferdinand  —  the  office  has 
worked  on!  "What  matters  it, —  mob  in  Ma- 
drid, constitution  or  absolutism,  —  is  the  sun 
any  less  clear  or  is  the  graver  any  more  blunt 
because  the  government  has  changed?  Let  us 
strike  a  clean  proof;  that  seems  to  be  our  busi- 
ness." As  I  talked  with  these  assiduous  and 
courteous  gentlemen,  as  I  saw  a  workman  pull  a 
proof  from  a  press  which  might  have  been  there 
in  1782,  I  could  not  but  remember  what  things 
abide  and  what  things  change. 

Of  course  the  popular  subjects  have  been 
often  reproduced,  and  the  popular  prints  are 
sadly  worn.     Such  is  the  Madonna  of  the  Fish, 


238  'SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

one  of  Semla's  prints,  and  the  price  is  accord- 
ingly. One  or  two  francs  will  buy  one  of  the 
badly  worn  impressions,  which  are  but  ghosts  of 
what  they  were. 

But  of  subjects  which  are  not  specially  agree- 
able, —  I  recollect,  for  instance,  the  Dwarfs  of 
Velasquez,  where  there  has  been  no  pressing  de- 
mand for  impressions, —  you  find  in  their  port- 
folios examples  in  good  condition. 

They  recognize  entirely  the  competition  of 
Laurent,  the  photographer,  and  the  attractions 
of  his  admirable  collection ;  and  they  have  put 
the  prices  of  their  large  collection  of  calcogra- 
fia  into  rivalry  with  the  prices  of  photographs. 

Laurent's  gallery  of  photographs,  for  such 
it  really  is,  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  col- 
lections in  the  world.  It  contains  two  or  three 
admirable  photographs,  many  of  very  large  size, 
and  a  visit  there  serves  as  an  admirable  refresh- 
ment to  your  memory  of  what  you  have  seen,  as 
well  as  a  foretaste  or  suggestion  of  what  you 
would  like  to  see.  All  the  subjects  are  land- 
scapes, buildings,  people,  or  paintings  in  Spain 
or  Portugal. 

Laurent  has  been  more  than  twenty  years  in 
taking  the  negatives  which  are  the  foundations 
of  this  admirable  collection.  The  catalogue  of 
the  pictures,  a  book  of  nearly  two  hundred 
pages,  is  in  itself  an  index  to  the  noblest  monu- 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  239 

mcnts  of  Spanish  art  and  Spanish  antiquity. 
One  of  the  indexes  is  an  index  by  historical 
characters.  If  you  wish  to  learn  of  Boabdil,  you 
ask  for  ten  pictures  in  this  collection ;  if  it  is 
Charles  V.,  you  ask  for  eighty-seven;  and  so  on, 
so  rich  is  it  in  the  illustration  of  literature  and 
history  as  well  as  of  art. 

The  photographs  of  paintings  are,  I  think 
in  all  cases,  taken  from  the  paintings  themselves, 
for  better  for  worse.  In  Germany  and  in  Italy 
the  photographs  are  frequently  taken  from  draw- 
ings in  neutral  tint,  which  have  been  accurately 
made  for  the  purpose  of  being  copied.  But  if 
you  have  one  of  Laurent's  photographs,  you 
have  the  picture  itself,  as  far  as  the  camera  can 
give  it.  It  seemed  to  me  that  Velasquez  stood 
this  severe  test  in  most  cases  particularly  well. 
Of  course,  as  we  all  know,  some  colors  confuse 
the  photograph  hopelessly.  Velasquez's  picture 
of  Apollo  and  Vulcan  comes  out  wretchedly. 
The  blond  Apollo  is  as  black  as  the  swarthy 
Vulcan.  The  print  has  been  so  popular,  alas, 
that  the  swarthy  Vulcan  is  now  as  white  on  the 
worn  plate  as  the  blond  Apollo.  For  all  this, 
I  should  be  very  grateful  to  any  one  who  would 
present  to  me,  or  to  the  Fellowes  Athenaeum,  a 
complete  set  of  Laurent's  copies  from  the  pic- 
tures of  the  Museo  der  Prado.  There  are  only 
five  hundred  and  eighty-six  of  them. 


240  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

The  artists  who  have  been  sent  as  travellers 
on  the  several  routes  have  made  capital  selec- 
tions. Every  now  and  then  they  catch  a  group 
of  peasants  at  work.  Now  it  is  a  bit  of  a  ruined 
arch  or  bridge;  now  it  is  a  mass  of  prickly 
Indian  fig,  a  bas-relief  in  an  old  church,  a 
wonderfully  wrought  iron  door,  a  railway  tunnel, 
or  a  Roman  statue.  There  is  an  admirable  va- 
riety. You  are  all  along  reminded  of  Punch's 
admirable  aphorism,  that  you  can  buy  much 
better  pictures  than  you  can  draw  for  yourself. 

Right  under  the  lee  of  Madrid  are  certain 
excursions  which  I  would  commend  to  any  other 
traveller,  though,  by  misfortune,  I  did  not  take 
them  myself. 

I  should  have  been  so  glad  to  go  to  Alcala  de 
Henares,  which  is  only  one  hour  and  a  half  from 
Madrid.  Ah  me  !  Ilium  fait.  Alcala  was  the 
great  university  city  of  Spain.  Yes,  my  dear 
George  and  my  dear  William,  it  was  from  the 
MSS.  of  this  library  that  your  beloved  Complu- 
tensian  Polyglot  was  made  by  this  same  Cardi- 
nal Ximenes,  who,  among  other  things,  did  his 
best  to  discover  America,  made  permanent  the 
Mozarabic  Rite,  gave  his  personal  attention'  to 
Charles  V.'s  missal,  and  has  that  lovely  portrait 
in  Prescott's  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  Ah  me ! 
if  you  knew  what  I  know  of  this  dreamy,  schol- 
arly, drowsy  old  place,  you  would  want  as  much 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  24 1 

as    I    do    to    go    there    and    spend    a  week    in 

dozing. 

They  moved  the  university  long  ago  to  Ma- 
drid. They  used  up  the  precious  MSS.  of  the 
Complutensian  Polyglot  to  send  home  butchers' 
meat,  as  the  curators  of  the  Harvard  Law  School 
used  up  Lord  Brougham's  wig  to  fill  up  Holmes's 
Field  with.  And  now  Alcala,  in  perfect  preser- 
vation, is  an  empty  shell,  from  which  even  its 
lobster  has  removed. 

If  any  one  cares,  Complutum  was  the  Roman 
city  on  the  site  of  Alcala.  And  we  will  remark, 
in  passing,  that  there  are  those  who  think  that 
the  "  Doctor  of  Alcantara  "  should  have  been 
the  "Doctor  of  Alcala,"  for  "Alcantara"  means 
"abridge." 

The  old  university  building  stands,  in  perfect 
condition,  though  it  is  now  only  a  memory  of 
the  university. 

The  university,  rival  of  Salamanca,  was  found- 
ed in  1498  by  Cardinal  Ximenes  de  Cisneros. 
The  front  is  beautifully  ornamented  with  sculp- 
tures. A  medallion  in  the  principal  court  repre- 
sents the  Cardinal  himself.  He  has  a  marshal's 
baton  in  one  hand  and  the  crucifix  in  the  other. 
At  the  end  of  one  of  the  courts  is  the  Paranmfo, 
or  hall  where  the  degrees  were  conferred.  This 
hall  has  lately  been  restored. 

The  archicpiscopal  palace  of  Alcala  is  a  vast 
16 


242  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

building  of  wonderful  workmanship.  The  sec- 
ond court  is  especially  remarkable.  The  gallery, 
the  columns  which  support  it,  and  the  stairway, 
are  all  wonderfully  decorated.  The  door  under 
the  stairway  is  really  a  wonder  of  decoration. 
This  building  has  within  the  last  few  years  been 
carefully  restored.  Its  vast  halls,  of  which  the 
old  panelled  ceilings  are  in  a  perfect  state  of 
preservation,  now  serve  as  a  place  of  deposit  for 
the  royal  archives. 

It  is  rather  as  a  hint  to  other  travellers  that  I 
say  that  Jthe  Magistrale  Church  is  a  beautiful 
specimen  of  Gothic  architecture.  Here  is  the 
tomb  of  the  Cardinal  Cisneros,  which  was  for- 
merly in  the  chapel  at  the  side  of  the  university 
which  he  founded.  This  tomb,  made  of  marble 
from  Carrara,  is  the  work  of  Dominico,  the  Flor- 
entine, and  is  one  of  the  finest  works  of  the  kind 
to  be  seen  in  Spain.  This  church  also  possesses 
some  tapestries  and  some  pictures  by  Alonso 
del  Arco,  Juan  de  Sevilla,  and  Vincent  Carducci. 

But  the  real  charm  of  a  visit  to  Alcala  would 
be  that  one  would  see  the  framework  of  the  pic- 
tures which  Cervantes  and  Lope  de  Vega  and 
the  other  playwrights  and  novelists  construct,  in 
which  Spanish  students  play  so  large  a  part.^ 
The  university  of  Madrid  and  that  of  Seville 
naturally  take  on  the  form  of  other  European 
universities,  but  Alcala  and  its  courts  and  clois- 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  243 

tcrs  arc  all  unchanged.     The  old  mediaeval  wall, 
flanked   with   towers    of  defence,  may   still    be 

seen. 

They  say  that  the  printing  of  the  polyglot 
Bible  cost  fifty-two  thousand  ducats.  It  was  in 
six  volumes,  folio,  and  contained  the  Hebrew, 
the  Septuagint,  and  the  Vulgate  of  the  Old 
Testament,  with  a  Chaldaic  paraphrase  and  the 
Greek  and  Latin  of  the  New  Testament. 

From  Alcala,  if  I  could,  I  would  go  half  an 
hour  further  to  Guadalajara. 

This  old  city  is  worth  a  visit,  were  it  only  to 
see  the  palace  of  the  Dukes  of  l'lnfantado  or  of 
Osuna.  This  is  a  noble  edifice,  which  has  pre- 
served almost  entirely  its  original  splendor.  It 
was  built  in  1461.  The  outside  appearance  is 
singular.  The  decoration  of  the  front  is  perhaps 
a  little  heavy,  but  it  fails  neither  in  character 
nor  originality.  The  patio,  which  has  a  double 
gallery  supported  by  two  rows  of  columns,  is 
covered  with  a  wonderful  number  of  lions,  whose 
tails  are  flying  all  abroad,  eagles  with  outspread 
wings,  fanciful  creatures  with  griffins'  bodies,  and 
designs  of  all  sorts  in  relief.  This  decoration 
extends  to  the  roof  of  the  second  gallery,  and 
has  a  marvellous  effect. 

Inside  the  palace  are  large  halls  with  panelled 
ceilings  of  the  most  curious  work,  which  recall 
the  Alhambra.     The  grand  salon  of  Linajes,  or 


244  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

of  the  descendants  of  the  Mendozas,  is  specially- 
remarkable. 

A  vaulted  wooden  ceiling,  formed  in  arches 
and  gilded,  gives  the  effect  of  stalactites.  All 
around  this  hall  was  a  frieze  adorned  with 
painted  statues.  These  statues  represent  the 
ancestors  of  the  family  of  the  Duke  of  l'lnfan- 
tado.  This  is  a  curiosity  of  decoration  such  as 
can  be  seen  nowhere  else. 

On  the  side  of  the  palace  opening  on  the  gar- 
den are  also  double  galleries,  supported  by  two 
rows  of  columns.  There  are  simple  arabesque 
designs  wrought  in  the  azidejos,  or  brilliant  por- 
celain, of  the  Moors.  These  designs,  though 
simple,  are  surprisingly  effective.  The  upper 
gallery  is  ornamented  with  faiences  from  Tala- 
vera. 

But  one  cannot  stay  even  among  cordial 
friends,  even  in  a  charming  climate,  even  in 
a  city  of  museums,  forever.  Some  of  us  were 
to  be  in  London  early  in  July.  So  far  had  the 
general  statement,  that  Spain  was  a  land  of  fevers 
and  all  sickness,  affected  our  plans  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  summer.  Others  were  to  be  in  Swit- 
zerland in  the  summer  months.  And,  indeed,  in 
any  event,  we  could  not  remain  in  Spain  forever. 
But  we  should  have  almost  to  do  this,  were 
we  to  carry  out  the  objects  into  which  we  went ; 
were  we  to  learn  what  the  Spanish  galleries  of 


OUT-DOORS  LIFE.  245 

art  were  to  teach  us,  and  extort  the  secrets  as 
to  the  history  of  America  yet  written  in  their 

archives. 

So  we  hurried  up  the  last  purchases.  For  me, 
I  bought  only  seventeen  fans,  Yor  presents  to 
friends  who  would  like  a  Spanish  fan.  I  wish  I 
had  bought  seventy.  I  hardly  dare  tell  the  se- 
cret even  to  this  silent  page,  that  the  day  after 
my  largest  purchase  the  man  who  kept  the  fan- 
shop  announced  that  he  had  received  an  admi- 
rable assortment  from  Switzerland  and  North 
America!  Had  I  been  buying  fans  which  had 
been  shipped  from  New  York  in  the  vessel  I 
sailed  in? 

We  looked  wildly  for  the  lost  umbrellas.  We 
went  to  the  Zinns  and  Sages  of  Madrid  for 
trunks  large  enough  to  carry  away  the  plunder 
of  a  peninsula.  {Plunder  is  used  in  the  Ken- 
tuckian  sense,  to  denote  the  private  property  of 
a  traveller,  honestly  acquired.)  I  had  a  long 
and  sacred  interview  with  an  express  agent,  to 
whom  I  intrusted  these  trunks.  "  No,  they  need 
not  go  by  grandc  vitesse,  they  might  go  by  any 
vitesse  which  would  bring  them  to  London  in 
three  weeks." 

Memorandum  to  the  unwary:  Seven  weeks 
from  that  day  the  trunks  in  question  appeared 
in  London.  For  Spain  is  the  land  of  the  manana  ; 
that  means,  the  to-morrow. 


246  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

"  Blessed,  kind  to-morrow, 
He  were  a  heathen  not  to  worship  thee." 

Certainly  they  do  worship  him  there. 

And  at  last  even  the  roll  from  the  calcografia 
went  into  its  trunk,  and  the  copies  from  Velas- 
quez into  theirs,  and  the  last  recalcitrant  fan  and 
Botelin  de  Documentos  Ineditos  went  into  theirs, 
and  sturdy  men  bore  them  downstairs.  And 
we  tumbled  into  bed,  to  sleep  till  early  daybreak, 
when  we  were  to  leave  dear  Madrid,  perhaps 
FOREVER. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ZARAGOZA. 

So  we  were  up  bright  and  early  on  the  22d  of 
June!  Madrid  is  on  the  parallel  of  400  25',  so 
that  the  22d  of  June  gives  one  an  early  chance 
to  rise,  even  if  he  only  rise  with  the  sun. 

As  we   drove  to  the  station,  I   noticed   that 
bricklayers  and  other  builders  were  as  early  as 
we.     At  six  o'clock  they  were  climbing  their 
ladders  and  building  their  walls,  and  had  been 
at  it,  I  think,  since  five  o'clock.     At  twelve  they 
would  stop  work  for  three  hours.     I  should  think 
that,  in  the  hot  days  of  midsummer,  our  work- 
ingmen  at   home  would   like   to    do   the  same 
thing.     From  five  to  eleven  and  from  three  to 
seven  seem  to  me  better  working  hours  than  from 
seven  to  six,  dropping  an  hour  for  dinner,  when 
you  talk  of  June  and  August.     I  knew  a  school- 
master  once  who    let   his   boys    come    to    him 
at  four  in  the  morning,  so  that  school  for  the 
day  was  out  at  nine  in  summer.     But  this  ec- 
centric man  went  "  to  the    bad."     I  wonder   if 
they  did. 


248  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

We  were  bound  through  to  Zaragoza  (the 
same  thing  as  the  Saragossa  of  Lord  Byron, 
my  aged  friend)  by  what  is  called  a  "  mixed 
line."  A  mixed  line  is  the  slowest  thing  there 
is,  the  derivation  being  that  freight  and  passen- 
gers are  taken  in  the  same  train.  The  loyal 
reader  who  has  a  long  enough  memory  to  recall 
any  words  which  this  author  may  have  dropped 
early  in  our  united  journey,  will  remember  that 
it  has  been  already  explained,  that  if  you  want 
to  travel  fast  in  Spain  you  must  go  at  night. 
Now  we  wanted,  first  of  all,  to  see  the  country 
we  went  to  see.  We  therefore  went  by  day, 
though  slowly.  As  to  the  heat  of  a  midday  ride, 
we  must  make  the  best  of  it.  And  I  ought  to 
say,  writing  nine  months  after,  that  I  have  no 
recollection  of  suffering  from  heat.  It  was  noth- 
ing to  the  heat  of  days  in  which  I  have  trav- 
elled here  at  home.  As  for  the  speed,  we  made 
three  hundred  and  forty-one  kilograms  in  thir- 
teen hours  and  a  quarter,  including  all  stops. 
This  is  an  average  of  about  sixteen  miles  an 
hour. 

On  such  a  train  as  this  at  home  the  real  incon- 
venience would  probably  be  that  you  would 
have  an  indifferent  car.  But  here  you  have  the 
universal  first-class  carriage,  of  the  English  pat- 
tern. You  almost  persuade  yourself  that  it  is 
the  private  car  in  which   you  left   Paris,  which 


ZARAGOZA.  249 

has  been  in  waiting  for  you  at  every  station. 
But,  in  fact,  the  monogram  of  the  special  road  is 
woven  into  the  coach-lace  of  the  upholstery. 

The  courtesies  of  Spanish  travelling  are  very 
pretty.  If  a  Spanish  gentleman  in  the  compart- 
ment open  his  travelling-basket  to  take  his  al- 
muerzo  or  his  comida,  he  passes  it  round  to  all 
the  passengers,  to  invite  them  to  share.  You 
break  off  a  bit  of  biscuit,  or  take  a  strip  of  gin- 
ger, to  show  that  you  appreciate  the  compliment. 
So  with  a  paper  of  bon-bons.  It  would  be 
thought  a  little  greedy  to  open  the  paper  and 
devour  them  in  your  own  party,  without  offering 
them  to  all  the  strangers  in  the  compartment. 

Madrid  itself  is  in  the  midst  of  a  high  plain, 
sandy  and  barren,  and  the  public  gardens  and 
parks  which  make  the  few  pleasure  drives  are 
maintained,  I  fancy,  by  a  good  deal  of  labor. 
The  poor  little  river  Manzanares  is  made  to  fur- 
nish water  for  the  whole.  Around  the  city,  on 
almost  every  side,  are  gray,  rocky  hills,  gener- 
ally quite  as  bare  as  the  tops  of  the  White 
Mountains,  and  nearly  half  as  high  above  the 
sea.  It  is  two  thousand  four  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  above  the  sea  level.  As  I  first  entered  Ma- 
drid, on  a  drizzly  morning,  from  the  north,  I  re- 
membered so  well  Morton's  repeated  ejaculation, 
as  in  a  pelting  rain  we  rode  to  the  top  of  Mount 
Washington,  which  he  had  never  seen  before :  — 


250  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

"  When,  therefore,  ye  shall  see  the  abomina- 
tion of  desolation,  let  him  that  readeth  under- 
stand." 

"  Abomination  of  desolation "  is  none  too 
strong  for  these  Castilian  hills. 

Through  these  hills  the  railroad  winds  its 
way,  in  a  general  northeast  direction,  till  you 
have  passed  Alcala  and  Guadalajara,  of  which  I 
have  already  spoken.  After  these  you  soon  be- 
gin on  a  down  grade,  to  run,  still  northeast,  by  a 
somewhat  winding  route,  and  enter  Aragon. 

The  Castilian  peasantry  have  the  reputation 
of  laziness  equal  to  their  pride.  As  soon  as  you 
are  in  Aragon  you  see  the  result  of  faithful, 
hard  work.  I  do  not  know.  What  I  do  not 
know  is  this :  whether  the  Castilians  are  lazy 
because  their  country  is  barren,  or  whether  their 
country  is  barren  because  the  Castilians  are  lazy. 
One  of  Dr.  Holmes's  best  stories,  for  which  the 
diligent  reader  will  perhaps  search  vainly,  is 
of  a  fellow  who  sold  hair-oil  on  the  steps  of  the 
medical  college  in  Paris,  and  displayed,  as  a  test 
of  its  excellence,  the  most  magnificent  head  of 
hair.  "  What  I  do  not  know,"  Dr.  Holmes  says, 
"  is  whether  the  man  sold  the  hair-oil  because  he 
had  that  fine  head  of  hair,  or  whether  he  had  the 
fine  head  of  hair  because  he  used  the  hair-oil." 

The  passage  from  Castile  to  Aragon  is  from 
Isabella's  kingdom  to  Ferdinand's.     "  From  arid 


ZARAGOZA.  251 

Castile  to  fertile  Aragon "  is  the  guide-book 
slang.  What  this  means  seems  to  be,  from  Cas- 
tile, where  a  set  of  stupid  bigots  lived,  to  Ara- 
gon,  where  a  set  of  ingenious  and  industrious 
Moors  had  introduced  irrigation,  agriculture,  and 
their  consequences.  This  may  be  unjust  in  me. 
But  we  love  our  dear  Moors,  and  could  weep 
for  Boabdil  and  his  ejection.  There  is  but  one 
God,  and  Spain  does  not  seem  to  have  flour- 
ished much  since  she  turned  out  a  people  who 
put  this  statement  in  the  front  rank  of  such 
knowledge  as  they  had. 

It  was  tantalizing  to  hurry  by  Alcala  and 
Guadalajara,  and  to  have  to  satisfy  ourselves 
with  such  sketches  as  we  could  make,  while  this 
and  that  part  of  our  "  mixed  train  "  was  shunted 
off,  and  we  left,  now  in  sight  of  a  cathedral, 
now  in  the  shelter  and  shade  of  a  water-tank. 

Some  fifty  miles  northeast  of  Guadalajara 
you  come  to  Siguenza,  another  place  which  has 
a  picturesque  look,  tempting  you  to  stay  over. 
But  we  must  content  ourselves  with  Laurent's 
general  view.  Perhaps  our  learned  and  in- 
telligent friend  Mr.  Richardson,  close  on  our 
tracks,  and  knowing  how  to  study  the  Roman- 
esque in  northern  Spain,  will  bring  home  some- 
thing from  this  quaint  old  Roman  church.  The 
guide-book  speaks  of  two  seminaries  in  Siguenza, 
whatever  they  may  be. 


252  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

No  one  had  taken  the  trouble,  when  I  studied 
geography,  to  tell  me  that  there  was  any  such 
place  in  the  world  as  Calatayud.  Or,  perhaps, 
did  I  never  study  the  geography  of  Spain? 

Did  it  perhaps  happen,  in  those  dreamy  days 
of  the  Latin  School,  when  we  were  ordered 
down  into  the  basement,  once  in  four  months,  to 
"  study  English  "  under  Mr.  Benjamin  or  some 
other  unfortunate,  —  did  it  perhaps  happen  that, 
in  the  determination  by  the  class,  as  to  where 
we  left  off  four  months  before,  we  squarely 
omitted  "  Spain  "  among  us  ?  Is  this  possibly 
the  reason  why  all  Spain  seems  so  much  like  the 
planet  Mars  to  me? 

If  studying  geography  amounted  to  much,  I 
ought  to  be  most  at  home  in  Greenland  and 
Labrador;  for  the  custom  of  new  teachers  is 
to  order  a  new  book  and  bid  the  boys  begin 
again.  I  can  remember,  therefore,  beginning 
many,  many  times  on  North  America,  which, 
with  true  loyalty,  stands  at  the  beginning  of  all 
American  geographies.  More  time,  therefore, 
has  been  spent  on  my  information  as  to  Green- 
land and  Labrador,  so  far  as  school-work  went, 
than  anybody  chose  to  give  to  London  or  Paris. 

As  virtually  nothing  is  known  about  either 
country,  I  have  a  right  to  say  I  know  about  all 
there  is  known.  So  much  for  the  jargon  of  the 
geographical  text-books. 


ZARAGOZA.  253 

Forgive  this  excursiis,  dear  reader,  and  let  us 
return  to  Calatayud. 

At  this  point  I  send  over  to  the  Fellowes 
Athenaeum  for  Poitou's  journey  through  Spain. 
Perhaps  he  saw  more  of  Calatayud  than  I  did. 

Alas !  what  a  corrective  is  one  traveller  for 
another.  He  went  by  rail  to  Madrid  from  Zara- 
goza,  just  the  reverse  of  our  route.  This  Ara- 
gon,  which  we  found  so  interesting,  seemed  to 
him  just  the  reverse.  "  The  road  from  Sara- 
gossa  to  Madrid  is  uninteresting,  but  the  country 
is  not  without  character."  I  should  think  not. 
All  he  saw  of  Calatayud  was  "  its  semi-oriental 
silhouette  on  the  bluish  background  of  its  double 
mountains." 

Then  he  came  to  Alhama,  —  and  here  its 
translator  expatiates  on  Byron's  ballad,  "  Wo  is 
me,  Alhama !  "  —  and  bids  us  read  the  details 
of  the  siege  in  Prescott.  Let  us  hope  that  this 
reader  has  done  so.  But,  alas  !  that  Alhama  is, 
as  the  bird  flies,  rather  more  than  three  hundred 
miles  from  this  Alhama,  and  this  reader  of  ours 
has  already  dilated  with  the  right  emotion  re- 
garding Byron's  ballad.  Alhama  means  "  the 
baths,"  and  there  are  a  dozen  Alhamas. 

Such  are  the  dangers,  dear  reader,  of  dilating 
with  the  wrong  emotion,  regarding  which  your 
faithful  Mentor  has  warned  you,  before  now.  I 
remember  a  friend  who,  by  misfortune,  dilated 


254  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

on  Barbara  Frietchie's  window  at  Fredericks- 
burg, when  he  should  have  dilated  at  Fredericks 
Town.  Against  such  danger  the  Mentor  and 
the  intelligent  reader  will  guard  with  care. 

Very  well.  Nobody,  I  say,  had  taken  the 
pains  to  tell  me  that  there  was  any  such  place 
as  the  quaint  Moorish  town  Calatayud.  The 
Moorish  quarter  still  exists  in  the  defiles  of  the 
hills.  The  tower  of  San  Andres  is  bright  with 
azulejos.     A  fine  castle  domineers  over  the  rest. 

If  anybody  cares,  the  name  should  be  Cala- 
tayub,  with  a  b  at  the  end,  which  means  the 
castle  of  Job,  one  Ayub  or  Job  having  built 
it.  But  this  is  not  the  Job  of  the  boils,  camels, 
wife,  and  friends.  It  is  the  nephew  of  Musa,  if 
intelligent  readers  happen  to  remember  him. 
This  Job,  being  sent  by  Musa  to  build  a  frontier 
post  here,  built  this  "  castle  o'  Job,"  around 
which  grows  this  city.  He  built  it  from  the 
stone  of  Bilbilis,  where,  as  the  reader  may  or  may 
not  remember,  the  poet  Martial  was  born.  It  is 
from  this  place  that  Martial  growls  to  Juvenal 
that  he  wishes  he  could  live  and  die  in  Rome. 
"  Bilbilis,  proud  of  her  gold  and  her  iron,  makes 
me  a  rustic  here,"  —  a  rustic  in  a  place  where  a 
toga  was  unknown. 

The  arms  of  the  city  are  a  Celtiberian,  riding 
without  stirrups  and  with  a  lance.  The  pride  of 
Aragon  begins  to  appear. 


ZARAGOZA.  255 

The  Dominican  convent  has  a  fine  three-story 
patio,  in  which  some  Moorish  work  may  still  be 
seen. 

I  think  I  could  dream  away  a  day  or  two  at 
the  Fonda  del  Issuro,  even  if  there  were  no  togas 
in  Calatayud. 

But  perhaps  the  charm  to  us  is  that  we  stop 
as  the  sun  begins  to  go  down,  and  the  shadows 
grow  long.  All  nature  is  so  much  more  lovely 
with  long  shadows ! 

And  all  the  Spanish  stations  are  so  pictu- 
resque. Was  it  here,  perhaps,  that  we  tempted 
the  children  down  with  their  fresh  apricots  from 
the  orchard,  when  they  were  a  little  afraid  to 
come  lest  the  Fonda  people  might  not  be 
pleased?  Remember,  dear  reader,  that  every 
child  of  them  all  is  a  picture,  which,  for  mere 
oddity  of  costume,  you  would  stand  gazing  at 
for  five  minutes  if  you  found  it  at  a  loan  exhibi- 
tion of  the  Art  Club. 

The  country  is  very  picturesque.  "  Not  with- 
out character,"  indeed.  In  thirteen  miles  after 
you  pass  toward  Calatayud  from  Medinaceli 
(which  has  nothing  to  do  with  heaven),  you  go 
through  twenty  tunnels,  so  broken  is  the  whole 
region.  The  Duke  of  Medinaceli,  you  know, 
is  a  very  high  nobleman,  "  rightful  heir  to  the 
throne  of  Spain, "  as  those  say  who  know  what 
are   the    rights  in    that    business.      Medinaceli 


256  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

meant  originally  City  of  Selim,  or  Province  of 
Selim,  —  Medina  meaning  a  jurisdiction,  or  prov- 
ince, or  city,  if  you  are  up  in  your  Arabic,  dear 
reader. 

But  Medinaceli  was  the  other  side  of  Cala- 
tayud,  and  we  must  not  stop  to  talk;  we  must 
forge  on  to  Zaragoza. 

And  we  arrive,  after  another  of  these  wonder- 
ful sunsets,  just  as  the  darkness  creeps  on.  The 
gentry  of  the  town  are  still  driving  round  and 
round  the  public  park. 

Aragon  was  the  kingdom  of  Ferdinand.  His 
marriage  with  Isabella  united  it  to  Castile.  It 
was  a  set  of  thoroughly  independent  people,  and 
the  local  independence  still  subsists.  When  a 
king  visits  them,  they  make  a  point  of  showing, 
somehow,  that  they  do  not  forget  their  old  priv- 
ileges. It  is  here  that  belongs  the  famous  old 
formula  of  coronation,  so  often  cited  :  — 
.  "We,  every  one  of  whom  is  as  good  as  you, 
and  who  all  together  are  much  better  than 
you,  swear  to  obey  you  as  our  king  so  long  as 
you  respect  our  rights  and  privileges.  If  not, 
NO." 

This  superb  oath  was  submitted  to  by  the 
Spanish  kings,  when  they  came  into  Aragon, 
until  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
The  traces  of  that  feeling  are  to  be  seen  every- 
where in  Aragon  to  this  hour. 


ZARAGOZA.  257 

Aragon  consists  of  three  provinces,  Huesca, 
Zaragoza,  and  Teruel.  The  kingdom  is  divided 
by  the  Ebro  into  equal  parts,  and  consists  of  the 
southern  slope  of  the  Pyrenees  and  the  northern 
slope  of  the  Idabeda  Mountains.  There  is  talk 
of  a  direct  line  from  Madrid  to  Paris,  over  a 
route  just  now  opened  to  the  diligence. 

Ours  was  the  first  party  which  went  from  Ma- 
drid to  Paris  on  this  completed  diligence  road. 
Whenever  the  railroad  shall  be  pushed  through, 
Zaragoza,  now  a  thriving  town  of  say  70,000  peo- 
ple, will  be  a  place  of  even  more  importance. 

We  went  at  once  to  an  inn  which,  with  some 
pretence  at  Italian  customs,  was  virtually  Span- 
ish, and  here  we  spent  thirty  hours  or  more 
very  pleasantly.  For  certain  annoyances,  in  the 
absence  of  arrangements  which  the  nineteenth 
century  has  invented,  one  must  make  up  his 
mind  once  for  all  in  Spain ;  but  as  for  the  eter- 
nities of  neatness,  obligiiigness,  deference,  and  a 
knowledge  of  his  place  by  every  man  concerned 
in  the  inn,  and  of  her  place  by  every  woman,  I 
found  these  central  necessities  in  every  fonda 
I  visited.  For  my  part,  I  prefer  to  try  the  dis- 
tinctively Spanish  inns,  and  not  those  which  are 
called  English,  French,  or  Italian. 

Every  inch  of  Zaragoza  is  curious.  I  remem- 
ber a  walk  among  good-natured  people,  selling 
their  fruits  and  vegetables  in  the  market-place, 
17 


258  SEVEN  SPANISH    CITIES. 

as  being  quite  as  interesting  to  me  as  any 
Madonna  of  the  Pillar.  Here  was  I,  with  three 
ladies,  of  all  four  of  whom  the  costume  was  al- 
most as  remarkable  to  the  Zaragozans  as  that  of 
four  Chippewa  Indians  would  be  in  the  market 
of  Detroit.  And  these  nice  people  were  not 
obtrusive  in  their  curiosity,  were  good-natured 
to  our  execrable  Spanish,  and  at  every  point, 
without  knowing  it,  showed  us  curiosities  which 
we  had  never  seen  before.  Why,  I  went  into 
a  twine-shop,  and  bought  some  red  pack- 
thread, of  which  I  have  some  to-day.  (Thanks 
to  a  high  protective  tariff,  it  was  the  cheapest 
packthread  and  the  best  I  ever  saw.)  The 
shop,  if  it  were  in  Tremont  Street,  would  be 
visited  as  a  curiosity;  or,  if  I  could  put  it  into 
the  Old  South  Church,  the  fee  for  admission  to 
see  it  would  make  up  the  annual  income  needed 
by  the  custodians  of  that  monument. 

The  four  regulation  lions  of  Zaragoza  are, 
however,  not  twine-shops  nor  market-places,  but 
the  cathedral,  the  church  of  El  Pilar,  the  leaning 
tower,  and  the  bridge  and  fortifications. 

Does  the  intelligent  reader  perhaps  remember 
the  puppet-show  at  which  Don  Quixote  assisted, 
in  which  the  famous  Don  Gayferos  came  to  the 
assistance  of  the  Princess  Melisendra? 

Well,  the  Princess  Melisendra  was  imprisoned 
in  a  tower  in  Zaragoza,  of  which  the  other  name 


ZARAGOZA.  259 

was  Sansuenna.  Zaragoza,  if  anybody  cares,  is 
a  modern  corruption  from  Caesarea-Augusta.  If 
the  reader  remembers,  the  Princess  lowered  her- 
self down  from  the  tower  and  caught  on  the 
balcony  by  her  brocade  dress.  Don  Gayferos 
found  her  hanging,  and,  regardless  of  the  injury 
to  the  brocade,  the  book  says,  he  pulled  her 
down  from  the  iron  rail,  put  her  astride  on  the 
crupper  of  his  saddle,  and  took  her  in  triumph 
to  Paris,  across  the  mountains.  By  that  very 
route  to  Paris  you  are  to  accompany  us,  gentle 
reader,  and  I  will  not  swear  that  the  tower  in 
which  she  was  imprisoned  was  not  the  veritable 
leaning  tower  of  Zaragoza  of  to-day.  Let  us 
rather  say  this  stands  on  the  place  of  that,  as 
this  is  called  the  new  tower,  and  was,  in  fact, 
built  in  1504.  Melisendra,  on  her  part,  was  the 
daughter  of  Charlemagne,  so  far  as  she  had  any 
real  existence. 

The  guide-books  say  that  the  foundation  of 
the  tower  settled  on  one  side,  and  that  the  lean- 
ing is,  therefore,  accidental.  I  do  not  believe 
this.  I  think  it  was  built  to  lean.  The  artists 
of  our  party  wanted  to  go  up,  and  I  accompa- 
nied them  to  the  place,  meaning  to  sit  at  the 
bottom.  But  the  ascensus  proved  so  facilis  that 
I  went  on  and  on,  till  we  were  at  the  top.  It  is 
about  as  high  as  Bunker  Hill  Monument. 

It  was  very  curious  to  look  straight  down  the 


260  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

sloping  side,  and  see  the  tops  of  dogs  and  men 
and  horses.  A  few  years  ago  the  architects  got 
frightened  about  it;  so  they  built  a  new  wall 
about  the  bottom,  where  it  would  not  show  out- 
side, and  shaved  off  the  projections  which  once 
were  at  the  top.  But  I  do  not  think  this  made 
much  difference.  Anyway,  our  two  hundred 
kilograms,  more  or  less,  of  weight  did  not 
make  it  tremble. 

There  are  practically  two  cathedrals  in  Zara- 
goza,  for  this  reason:  — there  is  the  cathedral  of 
La  Seo,  which  means  the  cathedral  of  the  See,  a 
fine  and  ancient  building,  in  which  Ferdinand 
the  Catholic  was  baptized  in  1456.  Parts  of  the 
building  are  very  much  older.  This  cathedral 
would  answer  every  purpose.  But  very  early  in 
the  history  of  the  religion  the  Virgin  Mary 
descended  visibly  upon  a  certain  pillar,  still 
extant,  and  gave  word  that  the  place  was  under 
her  direction.  She  did  her  worship  here  for 
some  time  daily.  Naturally,  a  church  built 
itself  around  this  pillar,  and  it  became  a  place 
of  devotion,  even  pilgrimage,  of  special  interest. 
At  some  time  in  the  sixteenth  century,  I  believe, 
some  royal  person  —  but  I  think  I  never  knew 
who  —  took  interest  enough  to  pull  down  the 
old  church,  which  was,  perhaps,  burned,  and 
build  a  bigger  in  its  place,  and  to  give  word  that 
this  also  should  be  a  cathedral. 


ZARAGOZA.  26l 

So  you  have  a  chance  to  see  how  badly  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  did  this 
sort  of  thing,  in  comparison  with  the  admirable 
success  of  the  earlier  centuries,  when  they  had 
the  same  thing  to  do.  The  pillar  itself  is  the 
central  point  of  an  altar,  in  a  beautiful  chapel 
of  its  own.  It  is  of  reddish  marble,  and  has  a 
sort  of  extinguisher  over  it,  made  of  I  know  not 
what.  A  priest  was  at  his  devotions  before  it 
and  some  fifty  of  the  people,  while  in  the  larger 
coro  hard  by  the  choir  of  priests,  and  I  sup- 
pose the  bishop,  were  carrying  on  High  Mass. 
For  the  first  time  in  Spain  I  heard  here  at 
Mass  a  single  boy's  clear  soprano  voice  in  some 
part  of  the  service.  We  could  see  from  where 
we  were  none  of  those  in  the  coro.  But  this 
clear  treble,  alternating  with  the  heavy  bass  of 
the  chorus,  had  a  musical  effect  very  interesting, 
and  I  need  not  say  that  I  did  my  best  to  trans- 
late it  into  devotion. 

Something  similar  was  going  on  in  the  other 
cathedral,  which  is  truly  noble;  and  here  in 
Zaragoza  there  are  a  considerable  number  of 
people  who  pass  in  and  out  to  their  daily 
prayers  in  these  churches.  You  do  not  have 
that  grewsome  feeling  that  these  are  only  a  set 
of  drummers  at  work,  keeping  up  the  daily 
drumbeat  round  the  world,  so  that  some  one 
may  be  able  to  say  that  there  is  a  continuous 


262  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

drumbeat.  You  really  feel  that  somebody  here 
takes  some  vital  interest  in  the  service. 

I  saw  no  monument  of  the  Maid  of  Zaragoza 
or  of  Palafox,  who  conducted  the  defence  with 
so  much  spirit  against  the  French  in  1808. 

But  the  old  wall  still  exists  on  the  river-side, 
and  marks  of  the  attack  and  defence  are  every- 
where shown. 

I  shall  remember  Zaragoza  for  a  sort  of  wide- 
awake freshness,  which  would  seem  to  show  that 
the  wind  of  the  Pyrenees  often  blows  through 
the  street.  The  wide-awake  independence  of 
what  was  virtually  a  republic  still  lives  in  these 
people,  who  seem  energetic  and  prosperous. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

NORTHWARD. 

And  how  does  this  reader  know  that  he  has 
not  been  lured  thus  far  to  his  ruin?  Has  he  not, 
indeed,  arrived  at  Zaragoza,  with  no  sure  pros- 
pect that  he  will  ever  leave  th*it  city?  Are  not 
these  guides  of  his,  four  wild  madcaps,  led  by 
a  tall  round-shouldered  man,  with  a  civil  tongue 
in  his  head,  who  speaks  very  bad  Spanish,  and 
who  knows  of  no  route  by  which  the  reader 
shall  come  home?  For,  of  course,  no  one  in  his 
senses  ever  returns  by  the  route  by  which  he 

went. 

To  confess  the  whole  truth  to  this  loyal  reader, 
all  this  excursion  to  Zaragoza  was  based  on  a 
perhaps. 

It  might  be  that  there  was  some  road  across 
the  Pyrenees  by  which  the  party  of  four,  and 
the  reader  faithfully  following,  could  come  to 
Pau,  without  going  round  by  Marseilles,  and 
without  returning  by  Biarritz,  by  which  route, 
as  the  reader  may  possibly  remember,  we  all 
entered  Spain. 


264  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

With  regard  to  this  possible  route  across  the 
Pyrenees  the  authorities  were  few,  inconsistent, 
and  not  recent. 

First,  and  best  authenticated,  was  that  cele- 
brated march  of  Charlemagne  in  the  year  779, 
or  thereabouts,  when  his  rear  guard  was  cut  off 
at  Roncesvalles,  and  Roland  killed,  as  the  reader 
may  remember. 

Second,  not  quite  so  well  authenticated,  was 
this  flight  of  the  Princess  Melisendra  on  the 
crupper  of  Don  Gayferos's  saddle,  as  seen  by 
Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza  in  the  puppet- 
show. 

With  regard  to  both  of  these  expeditions,  it 
was  to  be  observed  that  they  were  made  in  the 
saddle,  and  there  was  no  evidence  that  the  trav- 
ellers had  each  a  trunk  or  trunk-mail,  weighing 
just  up  to  the  regulations  of  the  Spanish  luggage- 
vans,  which  also  must  cross  the  Pyrenees. 

Whether  the  passage  of  one  thousand  one 
hundred  and  three  years  had  expanded  the  road 
across  the  Pyrenees  so  far  that  one  could  go  in 
any  sort  of  jumble-cart  with  these  trunks  on 
board?     This  was  question  No.  1. 

Or  whether,  outside  of  ballads,  Charlemagne 
and  Melisendra  did  not  carry  boxes  of  plunder 
as  big  as  these  regulation  trunks,  and  whether 
such  trunks  could  not  be  attached  to  the  backs 
of  mules,  in  like  wise,  in  1882?  This  was  ques- 
tion No.  2. 


NORTHWARD. 


265 


But  why  did  they  not  look  in  Murray  or 
O'Shea?  says  the  captious  reader,  with  his  feet 
on  a  leg-rest,  removing  his  cigar  from  his  mouth 
that  he  may  interrupt. 

Idiot'  Of  course  they  did.  And  of  course, 
be  it  said  with  reverence,  both  the  guide-books 
failed  them.  Vague  intimations  there  were  that 
«  this  route  must  be  made  on  horseback ;  "  "  the 
route  hence  must  be  ridden?  which  means  the 
same  thing.  But  who  should  say  whether  thirty- 
five  miles  of  such  riding  were  to  be  practicable 
for  women,  or  whether  the  trunks  would  or 
would  not  drop  off  behind,  as  the  mules  clam- 
bered vertically. 

For  myself,  I  went  to  the  Madrid  office  of  the 
Panticosa  baths.  Now  the  Panticosa  baths  are 
a  sort  of  miniature  Saratoga,  up  in  the  Pyrenees, 
advertised  as  widely  as  Spain  knows  how. 

«  Did  the  senor  (at  the  office)  know  whether 
the  routes  to  and  from  Panticosa  were  practica- 
ble to  wheel  carriages?  " 

The  senor  knew  nothing  about  it,  and  won- 
dered that  any  other  senor  cared.  But  as  the 
senor  extranjero  did  care,  he  would  certainly 
learn  at  the  bureau  of  the  railway  which  led  to 
Huesca.  To  this  bureau  the  foreign  senor  hied  ; 
and  he  asked  the  same  question:  "Did  the 
senor,"  &c. 

It  could  not  be  that  there  were  any  wheel  car- 


266  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

riages.  It  was  probably  impossible.  Still  there 
were  certainly  diligences  which  went  somewhere 
from  Huesca.  But  what  was  most  certain  was 
that  it  could  make  no  possible  difference  to 
anybody  whether  there  were  any  or  whether 
there  were  not.  Why  should  the  foreign  senor 
disturb  himself  on  such  a  merely  abstract 
question? 

Indeed,  were  we  not  all  in  Madrid;  and  why 
should  we  not  stay  there? 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  the  foreign  senor, 
who  is  this  writer,  finding  himself  on  the  tail  of 
a  street  rail-car  in  Madrid  with  an  English  gen- 
tleman whom  he  never  saw  before  and  never  has 
seen  since,  asked  him  if  he  supposed  there  was  a 
practicable  road  for  wheels  between  Jaca  in  the 
mountains  and  the  French  valleys  north  of  them. 
The  Englishman  thought  there  must  be.  "  There 
was  none  when  I  was  there,"  he  said ;  "  but  that 
was  in  the  Carlist  war,  when  I  was  an  officer 
there.  They  must  have  pushed  something 
through  since  then." 

I  said  I  had  three  ladies  with  me,  and  four 
trunks. 

"  If  I  were  you,"  said  the  cordial  Englishman, 
to  whom  at  this  distance  of  time  I  present  my 
thanks  again,  "  I  should  go." 

And  we  went.  Let  me  say,  in  advance,  that 
the  plan  was  not  developed  by  my  prudence,  but 


NORTHWARD.  267 

by  the  ingenuity  and  audacity  of  my  compan- 
ions. And,  as  the  reader  sees,  but  for  this  plan, 
however  it  turns  out,  none  of  us  would  have  seen 
Zaragoza,  this  wide-awake,  lively  Worcester-sort 
of  a  place,  which  runs  back  to  Augustus  Caesar, 
and  yet  is  quite  up  to  any  of  the  ingenuities  or 
enterprises  of  to-day. 

Be  it  observed,  however,  that  in  leaving  Zara- 
goza, on  the  morning  of  St.  John's  Day,  we  knew 
no  more  whether  there  were  a  practicable  route 
across  the  Pyrenees  than  we  knew  when  we  left 
Boston.  And  I  think  no  one  in  Zaragoza  was 
any  wiser  than  we. 

St.  John's  Day  was  probably  once  the  longest 
da>-  in  the  year.  If  anybody  ask  you  why  it  is 
not  now,  say,  "  Precession  of  the  equinoxes,"  and 
that  will  shut  him  up.  That  is  an  excellent  spell 
when  there  is  any  question  about  the  calendar. 
If  he  gasp  out  any  other  inquiry,  say,  "  Council 
of  Nice,"  and  he  will  succumb. 

Because  it  is  the  longest  day  in  the  year,  or 
was,  various  rites  more  or  less  Ethnic  —  or,  with 
a  Cockney  aspirate,  Heathen-ic  —  still  hang 
around  St.  John's  Day.  One  of  these  rites,  I 
know  not  what,  required  several  score  of  the 
old  women  of  Zaragoza  to  sit  all  night  on  the 
curb-stones  of  the  sidewalks,  in  front  of  our 
hotel,  looking  upon  the  public  park.  When  I 
went  to  bed  they  were  there,  when  I  woke  in  the 


268  SEVEN  SPANISH    CITIES. 

night  I  heard  them  chattering  there,  and  when 
the  sun  rose  in  the  morning  they  were  there. 

Let  me  hope  they  had  vervain. 

Why  they  were  there  I  do  not  know,  but  that 
it  was  the  eve  of  St.  John's  Day. 

And  for  us,  we  took  the  train  toward  Barce- 
lona, to  which,  alas !  we  could  not  go.  At  a 
junction  not  many  miles  out  of  town  we  left  this 
train  and  confided  ourselves  to  the  hotter  and 
slower  mercies  of  a  mixed  train,  which  was  to 
take  us  to  Huesca. 

Is  it  not  curious,  dear  reader,  that  I  should  feel 
so  sorry  for  you,  that  you  do  not  know  where 
Huesca  is,  that  you  do  not  even  care,  and  that 
you  never  heard  of  it  before?  I  cannot  say  I 
am  ashamed  for  you.  No,  I  certainly  am  not. 
There  is  nothing  disgraceful  in  ignorance  of 
Huesca.  But  now  it  seems  to  me,  of  course, 
that  people  should  be  well  acquainted  with 
Huesca.  I  am  like  the  middy  who  used  to  say, 
"You  have  been  at  Port-au-Prince,  I  suppose?  " 
because  it  was  the  only  place  he  had  touched  at 
in  his  only  cruise.  How  strange  it  is  that,  on  the 
1st  of  April.  1882,  I  who  write  these  lines  was 
in  that  gross  ignorance  of  utter  darkness  about 
Huesca,  and  was  not  ashamed,  more  than  if  I 
had  been  in  Paradise. 

"Don't  you  know  daddy?"  said  the  school- 
boy; "why,  it  is  as  easy  as  nothing  to  know 
daddy." 


NORTHWARD.  269 

Huesca,  my  dear  and  ignorant  friend,  —  more 
dear  to  me  because  of  my  own  ignorance  and 
yours,  —  was  once,  it  seems,  the  capital  of  a 
kingdom,  if  in  those  days  the  word  "  king  "  ex- 
isted, or  anything  corresponding  to  it.  As  long 
ago  as  Sertorius,  whom  you  may  remember  in 
Viri  Romas,  —  that  is  to  say,  seventy-five  years 
before  the  Christian  era, — that  same  Sertorius 
had  an  establishment  here,  where  he  kept  noble 
youths,  and  educated  them,  they  being,  in  fact, 
hostages  for  their  fathers'  good  behavior.  In 
memory  of  this  boarding-school  of  his,  the  uni- 
versity at  this  hour  is  called  the  University 
Sertorio. 

As  in  other  countries,  the  literary  atmosphere 
of  the  university  does  not  percolate  through  the 
windows  of  the  hotel.  I  am  quite  sure  that  the 
only  book  in  that  hotel  was  a  translation  into 
Spanish  of  the  letters  of  Napoleon  the  First, 
which  letters  I  read,  through  my  siesta  hours, 
not  for  the  first  time.  Excellent  reading  they 
are.  There  was  also  a  Spanish  pamphlet,  per- 
haps on  sewing-machines,  which  some  drum- 
mer had  left.  And  so  clear  was  it  to  all  parties 
that  no  such  thing  belonged  there,  that,  when 
we  left,  at  the  last  moment,  a  maid  rushed  down- 
stairs, stopped  the  diligence,  and  passed  the 
tract  into  the  hands  of  one  of  the  ladies.  For 
all  that,  it  was  a  decent  hotel,  and  we  fared  well 


270  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

there  during  the  heated  term  of  mid-day.  It  was 
the  hottest  day  I  spent  in  Spain. 

Strange  to  say,  no  one  knew  about  crossing 
into  France.  We  could  go  to  Jaca;  we  could 
go  to  Panticosa,  —  to  either  place  by  diligence. 
Beyond,  the  mountain  wall  was  like  the  moun- 
tain wall  of  a  fairy  tale.  Had  any  one  ever 
crossed?  Quien  sabe  ?  Or  how  did  they  cross? 
Qiticn  sabe  ?  This  is  certain,  that,  if  they  did 
cross,  they  never  returned.  Why  should  the 
senor  and  the  senoras  inquire?  Why  should 
they  care? 

Well,  they  did  not  care  much.  But,  anyway, 
they  could,  would,  and  did  go  as  far  as  Jaca. 

"  But,  surely,  dear  Mr.  Hale,  you  are  not 
going  to  make  us  start  without  telling  us  some- 
thing about  Huesca?" 

Not  much.  What  good?  If  I  told  you  about 
the  alabaster  retablo,  would  you  remember  it 
three  days  ?  It  is  not  as  if  you  saw  it  with  your 
eyes.  How  queer  it  is  that  my  afternoon  walk  in 
Huesca  should  bring  up  the  memories  of  a  drive 
in  Ipswich,  in  Essex  County.  Few  places  can 
be  less  alike  !  I  will  compromise  with  you,  loyal 
reader,  I  will  tell  you  a  little  story  about  Huesca. 
And  then,  just  before  sunset,  we  will  climb  to 
the  coupe"  of  the  diligence,  and  will  all  be 
gone. 


NORTHWARD.  27 1 


DON    RAMIRO,    THE    MONK-KING. 

"  Please  do  not  go,  papa,"  said  the  pretty 
Inez.  "  You  promised  me  that  we  might  have 
the  birds  out  to-day.  And  I  have  kept  this  a 
secret,  papa,  but  I  will  tell  you  now.  Every 
day  for  a  week  I  have  started  a  flight  of  herons, 
when  I  forded  the  brook  by  Sancho's.  I  have 
saved  them  for  you,  papa." 

Her  father  kissed  the  pretty  girl.  "  You  know 
how  glad  I  should  be  to  take  out  the  hawks,  and 
how  glad  I  always  am  to  ride  with  my  pet.  But 
we  must  put  it  off  again.  The  old  fool  has  sum- 
moned us  to  council.  And  it  is  so  long  since  he 
has  done  us  this  honor,  that  we  must  go.  He 
does  not  ask  us  to  council  when  he  wants  to  tax 
our  cattle ;  but  now  that  he  is  going  to  cast  a 
bell,  his  faithful  lords  are  summoned.  Good- 
by,  sweetheart."  And  he  kissed  her,  and 
jumped  into  his  saddle. 

"  But,  papa,  you  are  not  armed  !  " 

"  Armed  !  I  should  think  not,  for  a  five-mile 
ride.  Why,  darling,  I  shall  be  back  before  sun- 
set." 

"  But,  papa,"  said  the  girl  in  tears,  drawing 
her  last  arrow,  "  I  had  such  a  bad  dream  last 
night." 

"  I  will  kiss  it  away,"   said  the  laughing  horse- 


272  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

man ;    and  he  bent  and  kissed  the  girl,  and  with 
his  attendants  rode  off  to  the  city. 

As  he  entered  the  council-hall  an  hour  after, 
a  Celtiberian  giant,  hid  behind  the  door,  swung 
his  heavy  double-handed  sword  with  a  skilful 
curve  through  the  air,  and  the  head  of  the 
Count  Manresa  fell  upon  the  marble. 

"Is  not  this  a  sudden  call?"  said  the  Mar- 
chioness of  Barbastro  to  her  husband,  the  same 
morning,  as  he  pulled  to  pieces  the  fowl  before 
him,  while  his  horse  neighed  at  the  door. 

"Sudden?  Yes  —  or  no.  It  is  sudden  now, 
because  we  are  called  at  daybreak  to  be  at  the 
palace  at  noon.  But  he  should  have  summoned 
his  council  two  years  ago.  So  he  has  been  long 
waiting." 

"  I  wish  I  were  not  so  nervous,"  said  the 
Marchioness.  "  If  you  went  to  court  oftener  I 
should  be  more  used  to  it.     You  have  no  gorget." 

"  No,  the  thing  scratched  me,  and  I  took  it  off. 
This  is  only  a  bit  of  ceremony,  —  something 
about  the  cathedral.  I  wish  you  would  tell  Juan 
to  take  all  the  lining  out  from  that  Lerida  gorget 
and  put  in  something  clean  and  soft.  Good-by. 
You  need  not  sit  up  for  me." 

So  the  Marquis  joined  the  Count  of  Lerida, 
and  they  rode  to  Huesca,  saying  ugly  things 
about  their  monk-king,  but  glad  that  even  cere- 


NORTHWARD.  273 

mony  brought  together  the  council  again.  Their 
attendants  chaffed  each  other  and  chattered,  as 
a  staff  will. 

Arrived  at  the  palace,  they  found  Manresa's 
attendants  in  waiting.  Excepting  him,  they 
were  first. 

Together  they  entered  the  patio.  Lerida  was 
in  full  armor,  and  he  was  detained  a  moment 
by  a  question  from  the  chamberlain.  Barbastro 
passed  on  into  the  council-chamber;  the  Celti- 
berian  swung  his  sword  again,  and  another  head 
fell  on  the  floor. 

For  Lerida,  a  stout  son  of  the  soil  tripped 
him  from  behind.  The  instant  he  was  on  the 
ground  a  heavy  axe  fell,  and  his  head  was 
thrown  into  the  council-room. 

Three  gallant  Knights  ride  down  the  Road, 

They  use  nor  Spur  nor  Rein  ; 
In  Laugh  and  Jest  they  little  bode 
That,  on  this  Way  their  Steeds  have  trod, 

They  turn  not  back  again. 

They  laugh  and  chat  along  the  Way, 

These  noble  Lords  of  Spam ; 
No  haste  to  go,  no  care  to  stay, 
A  dusty  Road,  a  sunny  Way, 
And  little  heed  the  Three  that  they 

Will  ne'er  go  back  again. 

"  Groom,  take  this  Horse  ;  Boy,  feed  him  well," — 

Ah  me  !  a  Caution  vain ! 
Yet  not  one  warning  Voice  to  tell 
18 


274  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

How  ends  this  Council  of  the  Bell, 
How  each  man  falls  beneath  the  Spell, 
And  goes  not  back  again  ! 

A  flashing  Axe,  a  headsman's  Sword, 

Three  falling  Trunks,  and  then, 
With  never  Prayer  or  shriving  Word, 
Lies  stark  in  Death  each  laughing  Lord, 

And  none  goes  back  again. 

And  so  you  may  go  on,  gentle  reader,  accord- 
ing to  your  skill  in  telling  short  stories,  if  by 
any  good  luck  this  be  your  profession.  The 
time  is  the  year  1136.  The  King  of  Huesca  is 
the  monk-king,  as  he  was  called,  Ramiro.  He 
has  conceived  a  dislike  for  the  nobles  of  his 
kingdom,  and  he  has  summoned  sixteen  of  them 
to  a  council,  that  they  may  determine  how  to 
make  a  bell  of  which  the  sound  may  be  heard 
through  Aragon.  By  the  ingenious  device  of 
grouping  the  noblemen,  which  you  have  followed 
in  my  three  little  stories,  I  have  told  you  what 
befell  the  first  six  who  appeared  at  the  council. 

But  I  had  rather  not  tell,  in  equal  detail,  the 
fate  of  the  next  nine.  You  can  do  that  for  your- 
self, according  to  your  own  method.  Only, 
when  they  arrive  at  the  palace,  the  head  of  each 
man  must  be  cut  off,  and  you  must  so  manage 
this  that  the  reader  shall  be  quite  surprised.  In- 
deed, it  should  not  be  done  twice  in  the  same 
way,  if  you  can  help  it. 


NORTHWARD.  275 

You  might  have  one  party  of  four  and  one  of 
five.  Or  you  might  have  the  first  party  five, 
and  the  second  four.  Or  some  writers  would 
have  three  parties  of  three  each ;  in  that  case 
I  should  have  one  approach  by  the  road  from 
Monte-Aragon,  and  another  from  the  Ermita  de 
San  Miguel,  and  another  from  the  distant  Tardi- 
enta.  I  would  have  these  late ;  and  I  would 
have  Tardienta  named  from  that  lateness  of 
theirs. 

I  would  have  a  ferryman  caution  the  first  party 
that  there  will  be  a  storm  before  long,  and  that 
they  had  better  go  back  without  crossing.  Then 
Don  Baltazar  can  curse  him  by  his  gods,  and 
Don  Melchior  can  bid  him  stick  to  his  last, 
and  Don  Clement  can  slip  an  angel  into  his 
hand.  And  he  can  put  a  hole  through  this 
angel,  and  his  daughter's  daughter's  daughter 
can  wear  it  to  this  day.  Perhaps  the  second 
party  can  see  a  flight  of  ravens,  if  you  can 
manage  their  croakings  so  as  to  be  quite  differ- 
ent from  the  ferryman's.  And  the  third  party 
can  be  hindered  all  along  the  road ;  but  the 
Marquis  of  Tardienta  shall  cry  that  Satan  him- 
self is  not  strong  enough  to  stop  him  nor  cun- 
ning enough. 

Settle  these  details  as  you  will ;  but  have  all 
the  fifteen  heads  cut  off  before  noon  of  that 
bloody  day.     Now  I  will  finish  the  story. 


276  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

"  Drag  away  the  carrion,"  said  the  bad  abbot 
Frotardo,  who  had  committed  all  this  wickedness. 
And  the  brutes  dragged  away  the  still  bodies  to 
a  field  behind  the  castle.  And  they  brought 
forth  sawdust  and  scattered  it  on  the  stones  of 
the  patio.  And  the  bad  abbot  sent  out  oats  for 
the  horses,  and  water  and  cups  of  wine  and 
loaves  of  bread  for  the  squires  and  grooms  who 
were  sitting  in  the  shade  of  the  palace  in  front. 
And  he  sent  them  word  that  the  council  would 
be  long,  and  that  their  masters  would  eat  their 
comida  together. 

But  the  bad  abbot  said  to  the  monk-king, 
"  Has  the  devil  taken  Tizon  before  his  time? 
Why  does  not  he  come?" 

Ah  me !  there  was  no  hope  for  Tizon.  He 
was  late  because  his  groom  was  late  and  his 
squire  was  late,  and  when  he  came  to  the  ferry 
the  ferryman  was  on  the  other  side ;  for,  as 
you  have  been  told,  he  had  crossed  over  with 
Don  Clement  and  Don  Melchior  and  Don  Balta- 
zar.  Then  Tizon  had  tried  a  short  cut  through 
the  meadow,  and  his  horse  had  been  stalled,  and 
his  squire  had  scarcely  dragged  him  out  again; 
and  they  had  been  fain  to  return  to  the  trav- 
elled road  again.  But  at  last  they  had  arrived 
at  the  palace. 

And,  lo  !  the  grooms  were  feasting  in  the  shade 
and    drinking   from  the  wine-skins.      And    the 


NORTHWARD.  277 

horses  had  their  bits  slipped  from  their  mouths, 
and  were  eating  the  oats  from  nose-bags. 

"  The  council  still  sits,  my  Lord,"  said  Sebas- 
tian, whom  Tizon  knew  well.  He  was  the  squire 
of  Cervera,  his  nearest  neighbor. 

"  So  much  the  better  for  me  if  they  are  dis- 
cussing such  matters  as  their  squires  have  in 
hand,"  said  the  nobleman,  laughing. 

"  Pshaw,  I  am  stiff  with  riding.  To  say  truth, 
I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  coming  to  councils." 
And  with  this  jest  he  pushed  aside  the  curtain, 
and  stepped  forward  alone  to  the />atio. 

The  King  himself,  in  a  robe  of  ceremony,  met 
him. 

"  Welcome,  my  Lord,"  said  the  false  monarch. 
"  You  are  late,  but  welcome." 

Don  Pedro  hated  the  King;  but  he  loved 
ceremony,  and  was  easily  flattered.  "  Your 
Majesty  does  me  too  much  honor." 

"  Diego,  Jeronimo,  take  off  my  cousin's  ar- 
mor. Your  Grace  will  not  relish  our  simple  fare 
if  you  are  stiff  with  iron.  Or  would  you  wish 
for  water?  " 

But  Monteagudo  —  that  was  his  barony  — 
declined,  and  followed  the  King  into  the  coun- 
cil-chamber. The  King  pointed  to  the  ceiling, 
where  in  a  horrid  circle  were  arranged  the  fif- 
teen bloody  heads  which  had  first  fallen. 

"  This  is  the  bell  which  we  have  been  found- 


278  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

ing,  my  Lord,"  said  the  King,  "  and  your  head 
shall  hang  in  the  centre.  With  such  a  bell  and 
such  a  tongue  I  think  all  Aragon  will  hear. " 

From  that  day  to  this,  this  vault  has  been 
called  "  The  Bell,"  and  the  traveller  may  see  it 
to-day. 

No,  dear  reader,  I  would  not  have  told  that 
horrid  story  in  this  jesting  way  had  I  believed 
one  word  of  it. 

The  room  is  there ;  and  it  is  called  "  The 
Bell."  That  is  quite  foundation  enough  for  a 
Spanish  legend,  if  you  have  only  eight  hundred 
and  fifty  years  to  spin  it  out. 

If  you  ask  me,  I  think  the  name  of  the 
vault  has  given  rise  to  the  story.  And  I  do  not 
think  that  the  story  has  given  rise  to  the  name 
of  the  vault. 

But  if  you  ask  me  again  why  the  vault  was 
called  "  La  Campana,"  or  "  The  Bell,"  there  you 
are  too  much  for  me.     Quien  sabef 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

JACA. 

And  you  must  not  stay  here  chattering  on  the 
public  square.  Here  are  all  the  diligences  ready, 
and  half  Huesca  is  here  to  see  us  start.  The 
nice  girl,  as  above,  runs  down  with  the  sewing- 
machine  book,  if  indeed  it  were  not  a  Pathfinder 
guide.  The  host  and  the  hostess  wish  us  a  pleas- 
ant journey,  and  we  wish  them  happy  lives. 
Another  of  those  charming  diligence  rides  be- 
gins, such  as  I  have  tried  to  describe  before. 
Yes,  it  is  the  very  road  which  Melisendra  trotted 
over,  fearing  the  Moors  behind ;  but  now  it  is  a 
perfect  highway.  In  Huesca  all  the  people  come 
out  in  admiration  to  witness  our  departure,  and 
well  they  may.  The  eight  mules  run  like  fury, 
though  the  course  is  all  uphill.  Then  comes 
such  a  sunset  as  no  man  ever  described,  or  will ; 
and  then,  in  the  northeast,  the  moon,  not  full, 
but  large  enough  for  us.  Why  will  no  one  tell 
us  what  are  those  wonderful  lines  in  Schiller's 
Robbers,  how  the  moon  rises  when  the  sun  goes 
down  ? 


280  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

"  Because  we  are  in  Spain.  You  must  not 
quote  Schiller's  Robbers  in  Spain." 

Might  you  quote  Don  Carlos? 

"Perhaps" —  "Why  not" —  "  Are  you  going 
to  sleep?"  "Asleep  in  this  moonlight  —  moon- 
light —  moonlight." 

Somebody  is  asleep.  They  have  all  stopped 
chattering.     I  believe  they  are  all  asleep. 

They  certainly  are. 

Whether  we  sleep  or  wake,  the  eight  mules 
forge  on  and  the  soft  moon  shines.  And  at  last 
the  morning.  The  "  mist  of  dawning  gray"  be- 
gins to  "  dapple  into  day,"  and  you  know  that 
the  miracle  of  life  is  to  be  renewed.  The  road 
passes  along  by  a  strange  battlemented  wall,  — 
yes,  Charlemagne  passed  that  same  wall,  and 
other  princes  near  a  thousand  years  before  him. 
Marcus  Porcius  Cato,  your  old  friend  of  the 
Latin  Reader  and  of  Viri  Romae,  built  it  some 
two  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

A  few  guards  at  the  gate  of  the  little  city,  to 
ask  the  proper  questions  about  luggage,  and 
then  down  the  ladder  we  all  climbed,  with  our 
wealth  of  hand-bags  and  of  umbrellas  and 
paint-boxes  and  drawing-blocks,  and  began  to 
intercede  with  the  Fonda  people  of  Jaca  for 
lodgings. 

Perfectly  civil  were  these  people,  but  perfectly 
inflexible.      Lodgings !      The  thing  was  out  of 


J  AC  A.  28l 

the  question.  Lodgings  for  four?  Utterly  out 
of  the  question  it  would  be,  were  there  but  one 
in  the  party. 

This  was  satisfactory  for  four  tired  and  hun- 
gry people,  three  or  four  thousand  miles  from 
their  base,  and  very  sleepy,  in  the  gray  of  a 
Sunday  morning. 

Was  there  perhaps  any  other  Fonda? 

"Another  Fonda?"  Clearly  it  was  a  miracle 
that  there  was  one. 

"  But  evidently,"  said  this  writer,  in  that  in- 
different dialect  which  has  been  before  alluded 
to,  "  in  a  town  as  large  as  this  there  must  be 
some  comfortable  lodgings  for  ladies  who  are 
tired.  What  matter  if  there  be  no  other 
Fonda? " 

"What  matter,  indeed?"  A  brisk  little  man 
in  a  blue  blouse,  whom  I  shall  long  remember, 
had,  in  an  instant,  my  carpet-bag,  umbrella, 
shawls,  great-coat,  and  rug,  and  I  dare  not  say 
how  many  painting-blocks  and  travellers'  easels, 
in  his  arms,  and  said  that,  if  we  would  only  go 
with  him  a  few  steps,  the  matter  would  be  per- 
fectly easy. 

So  we  went,  in  the  dead  still  of  the  narrow 
streets,  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile ! 

How  grewsome  it  all  seemed  !  Never  a  crow- 
ing cock  was  stirring. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  friend's  whose  house 


282  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

he  selected,  with  the  greatest  difficulty  s*ome 
one  was  waked.  Blue-blouse  disappears,  we 
all  standing  in  the  narrow  street.  After  five 
minutes  blue-blouse  returns,  dejected.  No  lodg- 
ings ! 

But  there  is  another  house  where  they  will 
certainly  receive  the  senor  and  the  senoras. 

Here  a  second  act,  —  same  scenery  and  same 
drop-scene.  Similar  denouement.  But  there 
was  yet  another  house  known  to  blue-blouse, 
and  we  should  certainly  succeed  there. 

While  blue-blouse  goes  in  a  third  time,  and 
wakes  and  pleads,  and  while  we  wait,  the  still- 
ness of  the  dawn  is  broken  by  a  fife,  and  then  by 
singing.  In  a  moment  more,  five  grave  young 
men,  dressed  in  white  from  head  to  foot,  but 
with  their  clothes  trimmed  with  black  braid  and 
other  ornaments,  came  solemnly  dancing,  now 
backwards  now  forwards,  swinging  their  casta- 
nets high  above  their  heads,  and  keeping  careful 
measure  with  the  tune. 

As  we  saw  afterwards,  this  was  a  religious 
ceremony. 

Blue-blouse  reappears.  He  has  wholly  failed 
again.  The  excellent  friends  will  not  receive  the 
travellers.  At  which  this  writer  waxes  indig- 
nant, and  beats  a  retreat  to  the  diligence,  which, 
fortunately,  has  not  gone. 

"  What,  ho  there  !  put  these  trunks  on  again. 


J  AC  A.  283 

If  there  is  no  room  for  travellers  in  Jaca,  we  will 
go  on  to  Panticosa." 

Now  we  did  not  want  to  go  to  Panticosa.  In- 
deed, that  was  exactly  what  we  had  determined 
not  to  do.  A  vile,  stuck-up  watering-place,  half 
French,  half  Spanish,  for  diseased  people.  This 
was  our  imagined  picture  of  it.  Was  that  what 
we  had  compassed  sea  and  land  to  see,  we  who 
had  no  diseases?  And  we,  who  had  so  cleverly 
managed  it  that  our  diligence  ride  should  be 
only  eight  hours,  were  we  now  to  have  six  more 
rudely  glued  upon  the  end  of  the  nine  into  which 
the  eight  were  lengthened  ?  It  was  sad  to  think 
of!  But,  on  the  other  hand,  we  could  not  sit  on 
the  stones  at  Jaca  as  if  we  had  all  been  Murillo's 
beggars. 

Thus  was  it,  that,  in  accents  of  fine  rage,  the 
chief  said,  "  We  will  go  to  Panticosa." 

At  this  moment  another  blue-blouse  stepped 
forward.  I  remember  him,  and  shall,  as  if  he 
were  the  angel  Uriel. 

"  They  shall  not  go  to  Panticosa.  They  shall 
stay  here,  if  they  stay  in  my  mother's  house." 
This  to  the  populace.  Then  to  the  porters, 
"  Leave  those  trunks  where  they  are."  Then  to 
me :  "  Senor,  you  will  observe  that  every  one  is 
very  much  engaged.  This  must  be  so,  for  all 
the  passengers  ask  for  their  chocolate,  and  they 
must  have  it,  as  you  see.     But  immediately  the 


284  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

diligences  will  be  away  again,  and  the  passen- 
gers. Do  you  and  the  ladies  wait  confidently. 
I  assure  you  that  some  rooms  shall  be  found  for 
you,  even  if  you  stay  at  my  own  mother's." 

Was  not  that  hospitality?  Of  course  we  did 
as  we  were  bidden.  We  joined  the  chocolate 
party.  We  even  saw  them  take  their  places  on 
the  diligence  complacently  and  retire.  At  once 
the  forces  of  Jaca  were  directed  to  the  accom- 
modation of  the  four  wayfarers ;  and  before 
forty-eight  hours  were  over,  I  think  we  had  all 
voted  Jaca  to  be  the  most  hospitable  place  in  the 
world. 

Gradually  that  appeared  to  our  crass  hebetude 
of  northern  dulness,  which  every  one  had  sup- 
posed that  we  knew  before ;  viz.,  that  this  was 
the  feast-day  of  Santa  Osoria,  and  that  half  the 
province  was  already  assembled  in  little  Jaca,  to 
assist  in  the  grand  ceremonies  of  the  celebration. 
These  young  men  whom  we  had  seen  dancing 
with  castanets  were  to  precede  the  silver  casket 
which  contains  the  relics  of  the  saint.  Jaca  was 
crowded  to  its  last  corridor  with  friends  and 
neighbors,  visitors  who  had  come  to  the  festival. 
And  upon  that  crowd  we  four  innocents  had 
sauntered  in,  and  had  asked  for  lodgings  as  if  it 
were  any  common  day. 

So  soon  as  we  came  to  our  bearings,  all  things 
seemed  simple,  cordial,  and  easy. 


J  AC  A.  285 

Curious  it  is,  I  have  no  recollection  that 
blue-blouse  No.  1  ever  accosted  me  again,  or 
that  I  ever  heard  of  him  again.  In  England 
certainly,  and  in  America  if  he  had  been  an 
Irishman,  he  would  not  have  left  me  till  he  had 
secured  a  quarter-dollar  for  his  good  intentions. 
But  though  I  should  gladly  have  paid  him  in 
Jaca,  I  do  not  think  that  it  occurred  to  him  as  a 
part  of  the  transaction.  Certainly  blue-blouse 
No.  2,  that  brisk  little  man  of  affairs,  never  re- 
ceived any  fee,  and  would  not  have  permitted 
me  to  offer  it.  We  were  among  self-respecting 
people,  who,  as  we  had  come  to  Jaca,  wanted  us 
to  think  well  of  Jaca.  Before  I  had  done  with 
Jaca,  I  surmised  that  its  inhabitants  did  not 
think  their  home  any  less  central  than  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Hub  of  the  Universe  think 
theirs. 

Long  sweet  naps,  a  nice  almuerzo,  and  the 
courteous  Gregorio  Mur,  keeper  of  the  Fonda, 
gives  us  notice  that  the  religious  service  at  the 
church  is  nearly  over,  and  that  the  procession 
will  soon  move.  If  we  would  like  to  see  it,  a 
place  will  be  ready  for  us  on  a  balcony,  where 
we  can  see  it  well.  Accordingly  he  leads  us 
through  the  dense  crowd  to  the  very  best  place 
in  the  city,  where  the  residents  most  kindly 
place  our  party,  in  the  very  best  seats,  at  the 
best  balcony  to  witness  the  whole  pageant.     Gre- 


286  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

gorio  Mur,  be  it  observed,  our  kindly  host  and 
guide,  reminds  you  in  his  aspect  of  Robert 
Collyer. 

We  are  directly  opposite  the  quaint  old  cathe- 
dral ;  the  very  oldest,  I  suppose,  that  we  have 
seen.  It  was  founded  by  Ramiro  in  814,  and 
is  called  by  our  dear  Santa  Osoria's  name.  The 
cathedral  of  three  thousand  people,  capital  of  a 
province  of  perhaps  thirty  thousand,  is  not  large. 
But  this  is  very  solemn,  of  grave,  Romanesque 
architecture,  and  you  walk  through  it  with  the 
satisfaction  of  feeling  that  it  meets  the  wants 
and  wishes  to-day  of  the  people  who  are  here 
to-day. 

Already  the  chiefs  of  villages,  bearing  the 
banners  of  their  churches,  were  filing  out  from 
the  church,  and  taking  their  places  in  the  little 
square;  for  each  church  in  the  diocese  is  rep- 
resented here,  perhaps  forty  in  all.  Perhaps 
some  priest  is  present.  Perhaps  they  have  sent 
down  a  silver  ark,  which  contains  some  sacred 
relic.  Certainly  there  are  two  or  four  or  more 
stalwart  men,  chosen  from  among  the  better 
farmers,  or  men  of  most  mark  in  each  village, 
and  honored  with  the  charge  of  the  standard 
of  the  church.  This  standard  is  a  handsome 
banner  of  silk,  red,  white,  green,  orange,  or  blue, 
embroidered  with  gold,  and  borne  on  a  tall 
stout  staff,  at  least  twelve  feet  high.     It   is  no 


J  AC  A.  287 

sinecure,  the  bearing  such  a  standard.  The 
bearers  wear  a  uniform,  which,  seeing  it  there, 
you  call  a  white  surplice.  If  you  saw  it  in  Fan- 
euil  Hall  market,  you  would  call  it  a  butcher's 
frock.  They  are  well  aware  of  the  dignity  of 
their  office,  but  stand  talking  and  laughing  while 
they  wait  for  the  bishop  and  other  officials  to 
appear.  As  I  understood  it,  each  banner  was 
separately  blessed  within  the  cathedral,  where, 
before  this,  a  discourse  had  been  pronounced 
commemorative  of  Santa  Osoria.  So  they  did 
not  throng  out  tumultuously,  but  came  out  vil- 
lage by  village.  At  last,  all  was  over  in  the  ca- 
thedral, and  a  large  military  band,  with  the  garri- 
son in  full  uniform,  moved  as  the  escort  to  the 
ecclesiastical  procession.  The  banner-bearers 
took  up  the  line  of  march,  and  the  people 
thronged  along  by  their  sides. 

June  the  25th,  time  high  noon,  latitude  about 
430.  Readers  in  this  neighborhood  may  im- 
agine how  nearly  vertical  was  the  sun,  and  how 
little  shade  the  houses,  not  high,  gave,  when 
the  streets  ran  nearly  north  or  south.  It  was 
pretty,  therefore,  once  and  again,  when  a  trunk 
of  relics  was  borne  along,  supported  by  two 
stout  staves  on  the  shoulders  of  four  stout  men, 
to  see  how  little  children  from  the  throng  were 
permitted  to  walk  in  the  sacred  shade  below. 
Indeed,  there  was,  all  along,  a  grateful  recogni- 


288  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

tion  of  the  family  relation,  and  wives  and  daugh- 
ters joined  the  standard-bearers,  and  walked  in 
the  procession  as  well  as  they. 

At  last  came  the  great  centre  of  attraction. 
Reverently,  and  with  dignity,  our  dancing  friends 
of  the  morning  appeared,  with  their  own  musi- 
cians. And  as  David  danced  before  the  ark, 
when  it  was  brought  up  in  triumph  from  Philistia, 
so  these  five  young  Aragonese  danced  in  tri- 
umph before  the  ark  of  Santa  Osoria.  Gener- 
ally they  danced  backward,  by  way  of  showing 
more  honor  to  the  saint.  Their  castanets  beat 
time,  and  the  brave  fellows  never  seemed  to  flag 
in  the  hot  hours  of  that  long  ceremonial.  The 
ark  itself  was,  I  think,  the  largest  and  most  ele- 
gant of  all  the  arks.  Eight  men,  I  believe,  bore 
it — four  before,  four  behind  —  on  two  staves 
which  ran  through  silver  rings  on  the  sides.  It 
was  of  silver,  of  the  shape  of  a  very  old-fashioned 
leather  travelling-trunk. 

Santa  Osoria,  R.  V.  Y.  M.,  was  a  Christian 
lady,  a  nun,  I  think,  who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
Moors,  and  was  beheaded  by  them,  I  believe ; 
but  not  until  she  had  done  many  and  great  kind- 
nesses to  the  poor  people  of  these  valleys,  who 
still  hold  her  memory  sacred.  R.  V.  Y.  M.,  as 
you  may  have  guessed,  means  Real  Virgen  y 
Martir. 

Around  the  casket  of  the  saint  the  crowd  was 


J  AC  A.  289 

denser  than  ever.  Whoever  could  come  near 
enough  threw  a  scarf  or  handkerchief  upon  the 
silver,  for  a  blessing.  We  had  seen  this  done 
when  the  other  arks  had  passed ;  but  this  was 
the  most  sacred  of  all. 

The  bishop  and  other  ecclesiastical  dignita- 
ries, in  full  costume,  and  the  political  governor 
with  his  military  staff,  in  full  uniform,  made  part 
of  the  gay  and  brilliant  procession.  At  dif- 
ferent places  in  it  there  were  three  large  and 
good  military  bands. 

So  we  saw  it  form  and  file  off  from  the  plaza, 
and  when  all  had  gone  by,  it  was  suggested  that 
we  should  cross  to  another  point  and  see  it  again 
on  its  return.  Here  we  were  again  made  wel- 
come at  the  convenient  rooms  of  the  club.  For 
Jaca,  though  a  city  of  only  three  thousand 
people,  maintains  its  club,  which  maintains  its 
reading-room.  Here  again,  as  foreigners,  we 
had  the  best  place  given  us  at  the  best  window, 
and  again  saw  the  pretty  procession,  and  what 
every  one  considered  the  most  interesting  feat- 
ure, the  solemn  dance,  as  it  passed  by. 

From  the  club  we  crossed  to  the  open  space, 
which  on  another  occasion  would  be  the 
ground  for  a  bull-fight,  and  here  again  were 
made  welcome  in  the  best  balcony  at  the  best 
point  of  view  for  the  close  of  the  ceremony. 

Directly  in  front  of  us,  overlooking  the  great 
19 


290  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

square,  was  a  lofty  staging  or  platform,  covered 
with  a  canopy  or  awning,  and  beautifully  deco- 
rated. There  were  already  assembled  the  bishop 
and  a  few  of  the  principal  clergy,  still  in  their 
rich  robes  of  ceremony.  To  the  front  of  this 
open  platform  was  brought  the  precious  cas- 
ket which  contained  the  relics  of  Santa  Osoria. 
The  procession  arranged  itself  in  groups  around 
the  square,  and  the  dancing  troop  repeated,  for  the 
last  time,  their  sacred  performance  before  the 
casket.  The  people  still  pressed  up,  eager 
to  have  their  scarfs  and  handkerchiefs  conse- 
crated. The  standard-bearers  would  drop  the 
long  poles  of  their  banners  and  hold  them  low 
for  a  moment,  so  that  the  people  might  fix  their 
handkerchiefs  to  them,  and  then  they  would  lift 
up  the  staff  so  as  to  touch  the  casket,  and,  after 
the  consecration,  would  restore  the  prizes  to 
their  owners.  Meanwhile  active  priests,  on  the 
right  and  left  hand  of  the  casket,  lowered  little 
buckets  with  cords,  and  drew  them  up  filled  with 
handkerchiefs  and  scarfs,  touched  these  to  the 
caskets,  and  sent  them  down  again. 

But  all  this  ceased  for  the  moment,  when,  after 
all  the  groups  were  in  place,  the  bishop  advanced 
to  the  casket  and  opened  it.  An  officiating 
priest  lifted  out  one  of  the  elegant  covers  which 
protected  the  relics,  a  beautifully  embroidered 
cloth  of  velvet   or    satin.     This  was  displayed, 


J  AC  A.  291 

and  laid  on  one  side.  Then  another  and  an- 
other were  displayed,  until  thirty  or  forty  of 
these  beautiful  coverings  had  been  taken  out 
and  hung,  one  after  another,  upon  the  rail. 
Then  came  a  moment  of  hushed  silence ;  every 
one  in  the  great  assembly  fell  on  his  knees  and 
crossed  himself,  and  the  relic  of  the  saint  was 
lifted  up  and  exhibited.  What  it  was  I  do  not 
know;  it  was  far  too  small  to  be  discerned  from 
the  place  where  we  were. 

At  once  there  was  a  new  rush  forward  with 
articles  to  be  consecrated.  I  saw  an  enterpris- 
ing priest  who  touched  to  the  relics  two  large 
bunches  of  printed  sheets,  which  were,  I  suppose, 
lives  of  the  saint,  and  were  intended  for  circula- 
tion. When  this  was  all  done,  a  new  silken 
covering  was  laid  upon  the  relics,  the  others 
were  placed  in  the  casket  again,  and  it  was 
closed  for  another  year.  The  procession  took 
up  its  march  on  its  return,  and  the  solemnity 
was  over. 

It  was  most  interesting  that  through  the  whole 
day  there  was  not  one  sign  of  discontent,  dis- 
satisfaction, or  faithlessness.  No  one  laughed 
at  the  tossing  of  handkerchiefs,  no  one  said  an 
unkind  word,  or  showed  any  impatience.  These 
were  a  perfect  two  hours  from  the  age  of  faith. 

We  retired  to  a  lunch  and  a  siesta.  As  the 
afternoon  closed,  we  walked  out  again.     In  the 


292  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

shady  space  on  the  side  of  the  cathedral  young 
men  and  women  were  waltzing,  or  dancing  some 
sort  of  saraband,  to  the  music  of  a  modest 
little  band.  The  streets  and  squares  were  alive 
with  a  spontaneous  fair  which  had  organized 
itself  on  the  sidewalk.  As  the  day  passed  away, 
we  could  see  groups  of  peasants  gathering,  with 
the  standard-poles  fastened  to  their  mules,  and 
the  women  and  children  clustering  together  in 
their  pretty  costumes,  to  walk  or  to  ride  home. 
The  holiday  was  over. 

We  all  agreed  to  make  an  early  start  the  next 
morning,  that  the  artists  might  work  while  the 
shadows  were  long  and  the  air  cool.  We  went 
out  from  the  quaint  old  archway,  where  the  sen- 
tinels now  knew  us  to  be  peaceful  townspeople, 
and  a  pretty  sight  it  was  to  see  the  people  strag- 
gling off  for  their  day's  work.  The  harvest  of 
wheat  in  the  fields  round  the  barn  was  nearly 
ready  to  be  cut.  The  picturesqueness  of  the 
quaint  old  town,  built  for  its  three  thousand  peo- 
ple, walled  in  by  a  wall,  almost  circular,  —  oh, 
so  exactly  like  Jericho  or  Ai  on  the  old  picture- 
map  of  Palestine, — is  something  hard  to  describe 
to  an  American  who  has  not  travelled.  Outside 
the  walls  the  green,  fresh  country  comes  up, 
as  the  ocean  comes  to  the  sides  of  a  ship ;  and 
the  town  and  the  country  mix  as  little  as  do  the 
ship  and  the  ocean.     Close  to  the  walls  on  the 


J  AC  A.  293 

outside  is  a  promenade,  and  the  walk  round 
takes  perhaps  fifty  minutes.  Three  or  four  gates 
give  ingress  and  egress,  and  apparently  at  only 
one  of  these  was  the  form  of  a  sentry  main- 
tained. But  perhaps  when  I  passed  he  was 
hidden. 

There  is  a  fort  and  garrison  just  outside,  where 
Spain  maintains  a  small  force,  to  watch  this  road 
to  France. 

In  this  quaint  old  city  of  Jaca  we  were  already 
high  in  the  Pyrenees.  South  of  us,  flanking  the 
very  road  by  which  we  had  come,  was  the  bold 
and  beautiful  mountain  of  Oruel,  around  which 
cluster  all  sorts  of  legends  and  ballads.  North- 
ward the  range  of  the  Pyrenees,  with  tempting 
gorges,  piercing  it  here  and  there,  makes  a 
magnificent  horizon.  Around  you  is  what 
appears  to  be  a  rich  valley;  certainly  it  is 
productive  under  this  diligent  Aragonese  agri- 
culture. 

Jaca  boasts  the  establishment  of  the  first  Par- 
liament in  the  world.  To  make  good  this  claim, 
you  must  of  course  say  that  a  Roman  Senate 
was  not  a  Parliament,  and  that  a  Saxon  Witc- 
nagemote  was  not  one.  These  people  boast  that 
the  oldest  Spanish  fucro  was  theirs.  Kfucro  is 
a  bill  of  rights  ;  a  sort  of  Magna  Charta  was  this 
fuero.  I  think  the  original  parchment  was  pre- 
served until  the  French  invasion  of  1809.     The 


294  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

French  destroyed  it,  as  they  did  thousands  of 
other  monuments  of  Spanish  pride  and  history. 

This  is  hardly  the  place  to  enter  into  any 
statement  of  what  these  fueros  were.  For  prac- 
tical purposes  it  is  enough  to  say  that  in  the  his- 
tory of  Aragon  they  played  a  part  not  dissimilar 
from  that  of  the  charters  of  the  Dutch  cities  and 
provinces  in  the  earlier  history  of  Holland.  So 
important  were  the  fueros  and  similar  constitu- 
tional provisions  in  different  parts  of  Spain,  that 
the  Spanish  monarchy  before  Charles  V.  must 
be  regarded  as  a  limited  monarchy,  in  which  the 
sovereigns  were  held  in  check  by  the  provincial 
assemblies,  generally  called  the  Cortes.  In  Ara- 
gon there  had  grown  out  of  this  constitutional 
system  one  very  curious  result.  There  existed, 
quite  independent  of  the  king,  another  officer, 
called  the  justicia,  whose  business  it  was  to 
determine  whether  the  king  did  or  did  not  over- 
step the  barriers  imposed  on  him  by  the  fueros. 
It  is  to  the  authority  of  this  justicia  that  allusion 
is  made  in  that  proud  oath,  taken  by  the  old 
kings  at  Zaragoza,  which  I  have  quoted.  So 
soon  as  the  Inquisition  was  established  it  came 
into  direct  conflict  with  the  fueros,  and  their 
abolition  is  directly  due  more  to  the  bad  offices 
of  the  Inquisition  than  to  the  personal  efforts  of 
Charles  V.  and  his  successors. 

In  the  days  of  King  Ramiro,  or  of  somebody 


J  AC  A.  295 

who  reigned  before  him,  there  was  a  palace 
here,  of  which  some  of  the  splendors  still  re- 
main. How  queer  is  the  mix-up  of  this  strange 
country  everywhere.  We  went  to  an  apothe- 
cary's shop,  very  much  such  a  looking  shop  as 
I  might  find  in  the  business  street,  say  of  Cran- 
berry Centre.  We  asked  the  "  gentlemanly  pro- 
prietor" if  we  could  see  the  celebrated  fireplace 
of  the  palace.  He  was  all  courtesy  and  atten- 
tion, led  us  into  the  back  of  his  shop,  where 
were  stored  the  boxes  and  demijohns  from  which 
the  retail  trade  was  supplied,  then  through  a 
storeroom  for  hay  and  oats,  and  then  into  the 
half  sitting-room,  half  kitchen,  where  his  wife  sat 
knitting  and  a  little  girl  was  playing  with  a  cat. 
A  fine  large  room,  with  a  rough  stone  floor. 
There  is  not  in  New  England  a  floor  in  a  dwell- 
ing-house so  uncomfortable.  There  is  not  in 
America  a  fireplace  as  magnificent  as  the  carved- 
oak  fireplace  which  we  had  come  to  see,  nor  a 
ceiling  as  grand  as  the  oaken  ceiling  above  us. 
The  room,  in  short,  was  one  of  the  state  apart- 
ments of  some  Gothic  king  who  reigned  here 
perhaps  twelve  hundred  years  ago.  The  proud 
Aragonese,  who  keeps  the  apothecary's  shop, 
had  been,  he  said,  approached  by  agents  from 
the  Cluny  Museum  in  Paris,  who  wanted  to  buy 
his  treasure  for  that  collection.  But  Aragon 
will  not  sell  its  wonders  to  France. 


296  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

The  room  is  shorn  of  part  of  its  former  size. 
Under  a  ceiling,  just  as  magnificent,  is  now  a 
storehouse  for  oats  and  straw. 

As  the  cant  of  criticism  sometimes  teaches  us 
that  the  Goths  had  nothing  to  do  with  Gothic 
architecture,  the  Gothic  ornamentation  of  this 
remarkable  fireplace  is  worth  noting  in  passing. 
I  did  not  measure  it.  But  on  the  right  and  left, 
inside  the  space  for  the  fire,  eight  or  ten  men 
would  have  sat  easily.  The  whole  structure 
occupied  almost  all  of  one  side  of  a  room  thirty 
or  forty  feet  square. 

He  is  a  bold  man  who  advises  any  one  else 
where  to  spend  a  holiday.  One  man's  fish  is 
another  man's  poisson,  and  what  pleased  you 
most  is  the  very  thing  which  will  distress  Richard 
or  Fanny.  There  is  therefore  a  risk  in  saying 
that  a  hotel  is  good  or  a  prospect  fine,  if  be- 
cause you  say  so  Richard  goes  there,  and  is  put 
in  a  room  you  never  saw  at  the  hotel,  and  has  to 
look  out  upon  a  pigpen.  I  will  not  therefore 
advise  any  one  else  to  go  to  my  dear  Jaca,  of 
which  I  feel  as  if  I  were  the  discoverer,  or  the 
re-discoverer,  after  Marcus  Porcius  Cato  as  afore- 
said. But  I  will  say  that  we  were  all  sorry  that, 
instead  of  two  days  there,  we  could  not  stay  two 
weeks.  I  do  not  believe  that  these  would  ex- 
haust the  possible  excursions  and  lines  of  his- 
torical study. 


J  AC  A.  297 

Does  the  reader  perhaps  remember  that  there 
was  some  doubt  how  we  might  leave  Jaca? 
whether,  indeed,  we  might  not  have  to  return 
rather  than  have  the  trunks  slide  off  the  mules' 
backs? 

Let  such  doubts  vanish,  reader.  At  the  table 
cVJiote  we  met  four  French  officers  who  had 
come  over  from  the  French  garrison,  some 
twenty  or  thirty  miles  away.  They  had  come  to 
try  the  new  road,  and  it  was  perfect.  Perhaps 
they  implied  that  the  Spanish  part  was  not  as 
good  as  the  French,  but  it  was  all  as  good  as 
need  be.  Sure  enough,  some  spirit  of  prophecy 
had  goaded  us  hither.  The  National  Road, 
begun  under  Napoleon  I.'s  order  in  1808,  and 
keeping  along  by  slow  manoeuvres  ever  since, 
had  been  finished  ten  days  before  we  came. 
A  new  carriage  for  travellers  was  waiting  for 
us,  and  we  were  to  be  the  first  northward-bound 
tourists. 

I  have  often  travelled  in  America  with  friends 
who  wanted  to  start  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  cannot  say  that  I  ever  wanted  to.  The 
result,  unless  indeed  a  railway  were  concerned, 
has  been  invariably  the  same.  I  have  been  on 
the  spot,  ready  to  start,  at  five.  Sooner  or  later 
the  other  members  of  the  party  appeared..  Last 
of  all  came  the  person  who  had  proposed  we 
should  move  early.     Then  the  horses  came  to 


298  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

the  door.  Then  the  early  starter  discovered 
that  his  trunk  needed  a  key  or  his  boot  a  lacing. 
All  parties  stopped  till  this  difficulty  could  be 
remedied.  And  finally,  about  seven  or  later,  we 
got  under  way,  with  the  feeling,  which  had  bet- 
ter never  be  expressed,  that  we  might  all  have 
stayed  happily  in  bed. 

But  in  Spain  five  o'clock  means  five  o'clock. 
Deeply  ingrained  into  the  habits  of  men's  lives 
is  the  great  truth  that  a  siesta  of  three  hours  or 
more  in  the  middle  of  the  day  will  make  good 
any  loss  of  sleep  in  the  morning.  So,  even  in  the 
land  of  postponement,  men  still  rise  early  and 
promptly.  And  on  the  day  of  our  farewell  to 
Spain,  breakfast  was  well  finished,  and  the  last 
hand-bag  or  alforca  well  in  the  little  travelling- 
carriage,  before  half-past  five,  the  hour  fixed  for 
departure  in  a  caucus  held  for  considering  that 
subject  the  night  before. 

This  travelling-carriage  deserves  a  word.  Sim- 
ply, it  was  a  little  omnibus,  big  enough  for 
four  persons,  to  which  you  attached  as  many 
mules  as  occasion  required.  For  our  purposes 
we  carried  a  driver  and  a  postilion.  The  car- 
riage was  wholly  new,  built  for  this  service.  I 
think  it  had  crossed  the  pass  but  once  each  way 
before.  In  a  dim  way,  the  good  woman  who 
owned  it  and  the  post-house  at  Jaca  seemed  to 
know  that  considerable  travel  would  cross  the 


J  AC  A.  299 

mountains  by  this  new  road.  As  it  is,  in  fact, 
the  only  available  road  for  wheel  carriages  from 
one  end  of  the  range  of  Pyrenees  to  the  other, 
as  Pau,  with  all  its  lazy  tourist  population,  is 
just  north  of  Jaca,  and  not  sixty  miles  away  as 
the  bird  flies,  I  cannot  doubt  that  a  large  mass 
of  travel  will  pour  down  over  the  new  road,  and 
will  pass  another  tide  flowing  the  other  way. 
The  road  is  as  good  as  the  roads  across  the 
Swiss  passes.  The  Spanish  part  maintains  the 
old-time  fame  of  the  Spanish  engineers.  The 
French  part  was  well  planned.  When  we  passed, 
it  was  not  in  as  good  order  as  the  Spanish ;  but 
the  working  parties  were  then  engaged  in  the 
repairs,  and  the  French  administration  is  so 
good  that  no  traveller  need  fear  discomfort. 

We  rode  out  of  dear  little  Jaca  by  the  gate 
close  by  our  fonda,  with  the  good  wishes  of  our 
good  Gregorio  Mur,  and  of  the  same  crowd  who 
had  so  cordially  welcomed  us  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing. Just  outside  is  a  complete  little  fort,  built 
to  defend  the  pass  against  invasion  from  France, 
—  just  such  a  fort  as  you  read  about  as  holding 
one  of  the  Italian  passes  against  Bonaparte's 
whole  army.  Even  in  peace  it  is  garrisoned 
by  a  few  companies,  which  we  had  seen  in  the 
procession  of  Sunday.  We  had  been  cordially 
welcomed  there  on  a  visit  on  Monday.  A  pic- 
turesque, pretty  place  it  is,  with  wonderful  pros- 


300  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

pects  from  its  bastions.  Of  all  Jaca,  indeed,  if 
I  have  given  any  idea  of  the  quaint  old  city,  the 
reader  will  readily  imagine  the  charm  for  the 
artists  of  our  party.  You  are  surrounded  with 
mountains,  you  are  walled  in  by  crenellated 
walls,  you  are  defended  by  a  fort  in  Vauban's 
second  or  his  last  method,  with  bona  fide  draw- 
bridge, moat,  and  portcullis,  and  every  human 
being  you  meet  could  be  put  into  the  chorus  of 
Don  Giovanni  in  the  opera,  so  picturesque  is 
the  costume.  Throw  in  kind  hosts  and  good 
enough  fare,  and  what  more  can  heart  require? 

As  one  ought  to  expect  at  the  advance  guard 
of  Spain,  the  regular  hours  were  more  Spanish 
than  ever  in  Jaca.  Almnerzo,  or  breakfast,  was 
at  one  in  the  afternoon,  and  dinner  at  nine  at 
night.  I  survived  Monday  by  sharing  the  name- 
less meals  of  the  diligence  companies  at  and 
soon  after  sunrise.  I  had  then  only  to  call  al- 
muerzo  dinner,  and  to  call  dinner  supper,  and 
I  adjusted  things  to  a  New  England  basis. 

The  road,  like  all  such  roads,  clings  to  the  side 
of  a  little  mountain  river,  and  with  every  half- 
hour  or  so  we  came  to  one  of  the  little  villages 
which  we  had  seen  represented  in  the  pageant 
of  Sunday.  Always  a  picturesque  church, 
sometimes  a  little  narrow  street  of  houses 
crowded  closely  together.  All  houses  are  of 
stone,  timber  being  among  the  most  precious 


J  AC  A.  301 

commodities.  Why  people  should  live  here  it 
is  hard  to  tell.  But  so  it  is  'hard  to  tell  why 
they  live  in  Pelham  or  Prescott,  why  they  live 
in  the  valley  of  Sawyer's  River  or  in  the  Pink- 
ham  Notch.  But  any  of  us  who  have  ever  lived 
in  these  places  are  loud  in  declaring  that  there 
are  good  reasons  for  living  there.  I  am  sure 
that  any  of  my  friends  who  like  as  much  as  I  do 
to  spend  a  month  at  Greely's,  at  Waterville  in 
New  Hampshire,  would  join  me  in  saying  that 
the  reasons  for  living  in  such  places  need  not 
be  explained  to  those  who  understand  them 
already,  and  cannot  be  explained  to  those  who 
do  not. 

The  same  wealth  of  wild-flowers  appears  in 
the  pass  as  gives  glory  and  beauty  to  the  Swiss 
valleys.  We  made  out  many  of  the  same  flow- 
ers which  we  knew  in  Switzerland.  Often  one 
is  tempted  to  go  on  foot,  perhaps  by  the  old 
smuggling  mule-track,  across  the  neck  of  a  long 
zigzag  around  which  the  carriage  is  winding. 
From  such  a  foray  you  always  returned  to  your 
seat  with  a  new  bouquet  of  flowers.  The  south- 
ern slope  of  the  Pyrenees  is  very  steep,  almost 
precipitous  in  places.  Often  you  cannot  guess 
where  the  road  will  pierce  the  range. 

Four  hours  or  less  of  rapid  climbing  in  this 
most  charming  way  brought  us  easily  to  Can- 
franc,  the  most  northerly  hamlet   in    Spain    on 


302  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

this  route.  "Canes  Franci"  these  excellent 
people  were  called  in  old  times,  — "  French 
dogs ;  "  and  hence  their  present  name.  "  A  nest 
of  smugglers,"  says  our  friend  Murray;  and 
such,  perhaps,  they  are.  The  rewards  of  free 
trade  may  be  among  the  reasons  for  wintering 
in  the  valley.  I  do  not  know;  and  I  will  not 
bear  doubtful  witness  about  my  neighbor.  "  See 
well  to  the  provant,"  says  the  same  authority. 
But  for  this  I  had  been  negligent,  and  never 
did  people  exert  themselves  more  promptly 
than  did  the  authorities  of  the  little  Fonda  to 
provide  for  guests,  wholly  unexpected  as  we 
were.     Prompt  they  were,  and  successful. 

Forty  houses,  more  or  less,  crowded  together 
in  one  narrow  street  make  the  little  town.  A 
quaint,  queer  tower,  as  old  as  Philip  the  Second's 
time,  the  ruins  of  an  older  castle,  a  little  church 
on  one  side  of  a  little  plaza,  all  cry  aloud  for  the 
camera  or  sketch-book.  But  in  our  case  the 
vistas  of  the  river  valley,  as  you  look  up  or  as 
you  look  down,  with  the  precipices  almost 
vertical  beetling  above  them,  claimed  every 
moment  that  we  could  give  to  fine  art. 

After  two  hours  spent  in  drawing  and  at 
breakfast  we  were  again  upon  our  way.  The 
mules  we  take  this  time  must  carry  us  to  Urdos, 
which  is  the  town  corresponding  to  Canfranc  on 
the  French  side  of  the  mountains.     Up  and  up 


J  AC  A.  303 

by  zigzags  steeper  than  ever,  and  now  beyond 
the  scattered  cedars  and  firs  which  had  clung  to 
the  cliffs  in  places  further  down.  The  flowers 
are  now  fairly  Alpine,  and  every  vacant  place  on 
the  seats  of  the  carriage  is  heaped  with  them. 
Higher  and  higher !  Some  walking  across  by 
the  pedestrians,  as  the  zigzags  grow  steeper ; 
and  at  last  the  good-natured  driver,  who  is 
delighted  at  our  enthusiasm,  draws  up  a  little 
unexpectedly,  and  cries,  Somport.  Somport,  you 
see,  means  sumtna  porta,  the  highest  gate.  We 
are  at  the  top  of  the  pass,  and  the  place  is  called 
by  the  same  name  which  Marcus  Porcius  Cato 
called  it  by  when  he  came  over,  two  thousand 
and  seventy  years  ago. 

A  monument  of  stone  a  little  demolished  by 
frost,  as  if  it  were  a  monument  in  honor  of  Mr. 
Champernoun  in  some  churchyard  in  Massachu- 
setts, has  a  tablet  which  told  the  history  of  our 
debt  to  the  two  Napoleons.  It  seems  that  this 
road  was  ordered  as  an  imperial  road  by  a  de- 
cree of  the  first  Napoleon  on  the  twenty-second 
of  July,  1808.  The  inscription  calls  it  the  Impe- 
rial Road,  number  134.  It  was  continued  by 
the  third  Napoleon.  The  same  inscription  says, 
"  On  the  fourteenth  of  July,  1 86 1  — finished  —  " 
and  here  a  blank.  I  suppose  that  in  1808  Na- 
poleon may  have  expected  that  his  brother, 
the  King  of  Spain,  would  build  his  half.     But 


304  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

things  have  not  moved  on  exactly  in  that  line, 
and  it  has  been  left  for  the  young  Alphonso  to 
finish  it  in  this  year,  1882,  for  the  special  ac- 
commodation, as  I  have  said,  of  our  enterprising 
party. 

Just  above  the  monument  was  a  growth  of 
Alpen  Rosen,  the  first  that  we  had  seen.  It  was 
nine  years  before,  I  think  on  the  fourth  of  July, 
that  I  had  gathered  the  first  I  ever  saw  in  blos- 
som at  a  place  strangely  like  this  on  the  pass  of 
the  Simplon. 

Resting  their  mules  by  the  monument  were 
some  Spanish  muleteers,  whose  load  was  several 
bags  of  Spanish  wine,  from  which  they  regaled 
our  drivers,  who  were  as  thirsty  as  people  of 
their  profession  are  wont  to  be.  The  export  of 
Spanish  wines  into  France  is  larger  with  every 
year,  and  has  been  increased,  I  believe,  since 
the  ravages  of  the  Phylloxera.  The  guide-books 
and  other  superficial  critics  say  that  if  more 
care  were  taken,  the  rough  Spanish  vin  du  pays 
might  be  much  better  than  it  is.  But  for  me,  I 
take  such  criticisms  with  a  good  deal  of  caution. 
I  think  the  people  on  the  ground  are  apt  to 
understand  their  own  business  better  than  trav- 
ellers do.  As  I  have  already  intimated,  I  think 
the  Spanish  farmer  is  as  industrious  a  farmer  as 
can  be  found.  And  I  do  not  believe  that  a  peo- 
ple who  know  how  to  make  sherry  need  much 


J  AC  A.  305 

instruction  from  strangers  as  to  the  use  of  their 
grapes  or  their  wine-presses.  A  few  weeks  after 
we  passed  Somport  I  saw  that  the  London 
shops  announced  this  Spanish  country  wine  for 
sale  at  very  low  prices.  It  seems  always  to  be 
called  Val  de  Penas.  But  it  is  not  really  the 
product  of  any  one  valley.  It  is  the  color  of  Bur- 
gundy, very  rough,  very  sour,  and  very  strong. 

The  Pyrenees  are  called  Pyrenees  now,  and 
apparently  have  been  so  called  ever  since  the 
creation  of  the  world  and  the  first  making  of 
maps.  The  Greeks  and  Romans  so  called  them, 
with  reasonable  variations  in  the  spelling.  The 
Phoenicians  apparently  visited  the  Pyrenees  as 
well  as  every  other  spot  in  Europe  the  name  of 
which  may  be  derived  from  the  Hebrew.  These 
roving  voyagers,  they  say,  seeing  the  country  to 
be  covered  with  forests,  called  the  whole  place 
Purani,  after  a  word  in  their  own  language  which 
meant  wood.  The  Phoenicians  were  the  North- 
men of  the  Old  World,  and  there  are  few  places 
in  Europe  which  do  not  bear  the  marks  of  their 
passion  for  nomenclature.  The  student  of  the 
Greek  Reader  fifty  years  ago  will  remember 
that  Strabo,  or  whoever  furnished  the  simple 
Greek  geography  for  that  volume,  derived  the 
name  from  the  Greek  word  pur,  which  lingers  in 
our  fire,  and  referred  it  to  the  destructive  fires 
which  then,  as  now,  often   wasted   the    forests. 


306  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

The  whole  passage  is  curious  enough  in  the 
light  of  modern  geography,  as  showing  what 
Strabo  did,  and  what  he  did  not,  know.  Observe, 
loyal  reader,  that  Strabo  lived  *in  the  reign  of 
Augustus,  and  was  certainly  writing  as  late  as 
the  eighteenth  year  of  our  era.     He  says  :  — 

"  The  Pyrenean  mountains  excel  all  other 
mountains  in  their  height  and  in  their  age. 
There  are  many  forests  upon  them,  and  it  is 
said  that  in  old  times  the  whole  mountain 
region  was  entirely  burnt  over  by  some  shep- 
herds, who  were  careless  of  their  fire,  and  it  is 
said  that  by  the  fire  raging  continuously  for 
many  days  all  the  surface  of  the  soil  was  burnt 
off,  and  the  mountains  were  called  Pyrenees 
[from  pur,  the  Greek  word  for  fire],  from  that 
which  had  happened.  And  it  is  said  that  the 
surface  of  the  region  burned  flowed  with  a  great 
deal  of  silver,  and  that  thus  were  produced  many 
streams  of  pure  silver.  And  it  is  said  that  be- 
cause the  natives  were  ignorant  of  the  value  of 
this  silver  the  Phoenician  traders,  hearing  of 
what  had  happened,  bought  the  silver  for  very 
trifling  returns  of  other  merchandise.  And  thus 
these  Phoenicians  made  great  profits." 

Diodorus  Siculus  says  that  when  the  Phoeni- 
cians had  loaded  their  ships  with  silver,  they  made 
silver  anchors  and  left  the  iron  ones.  But  in  our 
days  the  silver  of  Spain  is  found  in  the  south. 


J  AC  A.  307 

If  we  are  fond  of  home  production,  however, 
we  may  believe  that  there  was  once  a  lovely 
maid  here  whose  name  was  Pyrcne,  or  something 
sounding  very  like  it,  around  whom  enough 
romance  clustered  to  make  it  perfectly  reason- 
able and  appropriate  to  name  after  her  this  great 
mountain  chain ;  for  the  Pyrenees  are  a  part 
of  the  great  mountain  chain  which,  extending 
from  one  end  of  Asia  to  the  other  end  of  Eu- 
rope, forms  a  sort  of  axis  for  history  to  revolve 
upon. 

This  great  mountain  system  runs  into  the 
Atlantic  Ocean,  and  the  Pyrenees  are  the  most 
western  branch.  They  are  not  among  the  high- 
est mountains  in  the  world.  Their  highest  peaks 
are,  I  believe,  somewhere  about  1 1,000  feet  above 
the  sea  level.  At  Somport  my  little  pocket 
barometer  read,  I  think,  9,300  feet.  But  they 
penetrate  Spain  and  Southern  France  with  their 
spurs,  and  they  were  as  good  as  they  could  be  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  when  they  became  very  con- 
venient resting-places  for  the  robber-barons  who 
infested  that  period  of  history.  At  present, 
however,  the  robber- barons  are  dead,  and  their 
descendants,  if  there  be  any,  are  kept  well  in 
hand,  so  that  travelling  is  comparatively  safe. 
The  castles  of  these  middle-aged  worthies  are, 
however,  left  in  a  state  of  preservation  quite  suf- 
ficient for  the  picturesque.      Besides  this,  the 


303  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

mountains  are  in  themselves  beautiful,  and 
would  be  more  so  if  the  inhabitants  had  not  a 
heathen  fashion  of  cutting  down  the  magnificent 
forests  which  once  covered  the  mountains  even 
more  than  they  do  at  present.  For  the  hunts- 
man and  the  angler  they  are  delightful,  because 
unvisited.  The  forests  and  the  mountains  have 
much  game,  and  the  streams  are  filled  with 
salmon  and  trout.  With  these,  however,  we  did 
not  meddle,  save  as  they  presented  themselves 
at  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper. 

And  now  we  are  in  France.  And  the  con- 
trast is  as  sharp  as  is  between  a  salt-marsh 
and  an  oak-island  upon  it.  Almost  on  the 
moment  we  are  shaded  by  hemlocks  and  firs, 
and  we  dash  like  fury  downhill  over  a  road 
which  makes  one  think  he  is  in  the  White 
Mountains.  I  have  never  seen  a  mountain 
region  where  the  evergreen  growth  was  so 
high,  yet  I  have  been  higher  than  Somport  is, 
in  Switzerland  and  in  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
The  Spanish  side  of  the  range  is  a  series  of  bare 
precipitous  cliffs ;  the  French  side  is  of  com- 
paratively gentle  slopes,  clothed  almost  to  the 
top  with  this  magnificent  green  forest.  No  one 
has  explained  this  to  me,  and  I  can  only  guess 
at  a  reason. 

My  guess  is  this,  that  the  south  winds  which 
have  crossed  Spain  bring  very  little  moisture, 


J  AC  A.  309 

because  the  country  is  arid  and  the  sea  far  away. 
But  any  north  or  northwest  winds  would  pass 
over  France,  which  is  not  a  dry  country,  or  over 
the  Bay  of  Biscay,  which  is  not  near  a  hundred 
miles  from  Samport  as  the  bird  flies.  Passing 
south  or  north  the  winds  would  leave  such  mois- 
ture as  they  had  upon  the  mountain  ranges,  and 
they  would  leave  it  on  the  north  or  south  side, 
whichever  they  might  strike  first.  I  am  dis- 
posed also  to  think  that  the  extreme  heat  of  a 
southern  sun  on  the  precipitous  cliffs  of  the 
southern  side  of  the  Pyrenees  would  in  itself 
arrest  vegetation  at  the  only  season  for  vegeta- 
tion. It  certainly  would  prevent  much  conden- 
sation of  vapor  on  that  slope  during  at  least 
half  the  year. 

Now,  vegetation  depends  on  moisture  as  well 
as  heat.  The  southern  side  of  the  range  seemed 
to  me  burned  dry,  not  by  these  fires  of  which 
Strabo  speaks,  but  by  the  southern  sun  of  sum- 
mer. If  at  the  same  time  there  were  moist 
winds  and  many  clouds  and  much  rain,  here 
would  be  tropical  luxury.  Failing  moisture, 
there  is  a  burned  look  on  the  south  side,  and 
not  a  palm  nor  an  agave. 

I  could  not  but  compare  this  arid  aspect  of 
what  I  have  called  the  southern  slope,  which  is 
a  slope  so  steep  that  it  is  almost  a  precipice, 
with  the  rich  vegetation  of  Isola  Bella  in  Lago 


310  SEVEN  SPANISH   CITIES. 

Maggiore,  after  one  has  crossed  the  Simplon. 
To  be  sure,  you  have  many  miles  of  distance 
there,  between  the  beautiful  island  and  the  Alps. 
The  moisture  of  the  lake  and  the  neighborhood 
of  the  seas  supply  in  Italy  just  what  is  wanting 
in  Spain  for  such  luxurious  vegetation. 

I  wish  some  one  who  knows  about  ranges  of 
mountains  running  east  and  west  in  other  coun- 
tries, as  in  Hungary  or  in  India,  would  tell  me 
whether  there  is  greater  richness  of  forest  vege- 
tation on  the  northern  slope  than  there  is  on  the 
southern.     It  certainly  is  so  on  the  Pyrenees. 

The  little  French  omnibus  we  took  at  Urdos 
differed  not  materially  from  the  Spanish  coche 
we  had  left,  but  we  missed  our  friendly  driver; 
the  new  one  had  no  personal  interest  in  us,  and 
there  were  other  passengers  to  share  his  atten- 
tions. It  was  hard  to  shake  off  our  Spanish  pref- 
erences and  become  French  upon  the  spot. 

But  everything  had  turned  into  French :  the 
language,  the  money,  the  manners  of  the  people. 
The  Alpine  nature  of  the  scenery  gave  place  to 
thick  midsummer  verdure ;  there  were  no  more 
Alpen  Rosen ;  great  spikes  of  foxglove  and  snap- 
dragon showed  themselves.  The  hedges  were 
draped  with  clematis,  and  the  roadside,  in  fact, 
looked  like  any  New  England  one  in  July, 
heaped  with  dust,  but  thick  with  leaves  and 
blossoms. 


J  AC  A.  311 

The  road  runs  through  the  so-called  Vallce 
d'Aspe,  which  is  Basque,  and  means  simply,  low, 
shut-in  country.  It  was  in  old  times  a  little  re- 
public, respected  by  its  suzerains,  the  princes  of 
Beam,  who  promised  early  to  allow  to  the  inhab- 
itants their  liberty  of  their  own  customs.  Even 
after  Beam  was  joined  to  the  crown  of  France, 
these  liberties  were  respected. 

Just  after  leaving  Urdos  we  crossed  a  bridge, 
and  then  all  our  heads  were  stretched  from  the 
windows  and  door  of  our  little  omnibus,  to  see 
the  oddly  constructed  portalct  or  fort  of  Urdos. 
In  a  narrow  defile,  upon  a  huge  rock,  two  or 
three  hundred  feet  high,  rise  walls  which  seem 
to  be  a  part  of  the  mountain.  A  bridge  with  one 
arch  connects  the  road  with  the  base  of  the  rock, 
which  is  ascended  by  zigzag  steps  cut  in  it,  to 
the  fortress,  placed  on  the  very  edge~of  the  per- 
pendicular precipice.  The  wall  is  pierced  with 
casemates,  and  the  effect  is  as  if  the  natural  rock 
had  been  scooped  out  to  construct  the  interior. 
The  bridge  we  crossed  could  be  easily  removed, 
and  then  the  pass  would  be  wholly  impractica- 
ble, the  guns  of  the  fort  controlling  it.  It  was 
finished  only  in  1848,  after  ten  years'  work. 
Thus  the  French,  while  they  have  exerted 
themselves  to  overcome  the  natural  barrier,  the 
Pyrenees,  between  their  country  and  Spain,  by 
building  good   roads,  have    not  failed  to  take 


312  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

precautions   to   secure   themselves    in  time   of 
invasion. 

Sometimes  the  walls  of  the  valley  shut  in  upon 
us ;  occasionally  they  opened  to  show  glimpses 
of  snow-capped  mountain-tops,  well  called  pics, 
as  almost  all  of  them  are,  for  they  are  pointed, 
like  inverted  icicles. 

At  Bedous  we  stopped  a  while  to  change 
horses,  which  were  mules,  as  usual ;  and  to 
change  our  positions  we  alighted  and  went  into 
the  little  wayside  inn,  no  longer  a  posada,  and 
found  our  fonda  replaced  by  a  buffet.  It  was  a 
delightful,  rambling  old  house.  The  large  room 
on  the  left  was  a  kitchen,  with  a  huge  fireplace 
on  one  side,  where  a  few  sticks  only  were  smoul- 
dering in  the  sunny  summer  afternoon.  A  cat 
and  her  family  of  kittens  were  grouping  them- 
selves about  the  hearth ;  two  were  comfortably 
resting  in  a  saucepan  on  the  dresser. 

The  landlady  invited  us  to  walk  in  her  garden, 
a  large,  rambling  place,  full  of  all  manner  of 
old-fashioned  flowers,  running  wild,  without 
much  attention  from  the  hand  of  the  gardener. 
Her  pretty  maid,  with  head  tied  up  in  a  kerchief 
we  must  no  longer  call  a  panuela,  gathered 
great  bunches  of  flowers  for  the  ladies,  among 
them  a  great  Hypericum  with  yellow  blossoms 
an  inch  and  a  half  across,  otherwise  just  like  our 
little  St.  Johnswort,  so  common   in  the   fields, 


JACA.  313 

"  punctate  with  transparent  dots."  In  spite,  or 
perhaps  on  account,  of  the  saucepan-full  of 
kittens,  the  place  seemed  like  a  pleasant  rest- 
ing-place, and  some  of  the  party  really  dreamed 
of  returning  to  stay  a  month.  We  went  up  to 
look  at  the  bedrooms ;  they  were  low,  but  neat 
and  attractive,  opening  upon  a  long  piazza 
which  overlooked  the  gay  garden.  The  land- 
lady was  eloquent,  in  hopes  we  would  come 
back.  But,  alas !  none  of  us  ever  saw  Bedous 
any  more. 

The  way  was  almost  level  now,  and  the  river, 
when  we  saw  it,  moved  tranquilly  along  with  no 
more  brawling.  Our  spirits  were  falling,  also,  a 
little ;  for  the  day  had  been  long  and  everybody 
was  tired.  We  kept  ourselves  up  by  wondering 
what  kind  of  place  Oleron  might  be,  and  also 
how  we  were  to  connect  with  the  rest  of  the 
world  on  leaving  it;  for  our  Spanish  guide- 
books abandoned  us  at  the  frontier,  and  we  were 
not  yet  armed  with  a  Guide  Joanne. 

The  sun  had  set,  and  lights  began  to  shine  as 
we  rattled  into  town  on  pavements  which  alone 
showed  us  that  we  were  approaching  a  large 
city.  A  youth  sprang  upon  the  step  of  an  om- 
nibus as  we  turned  a  corner  into  a  wide  street, 
and,  thirsty  for  information,  we  ventured  to  ask 
him,  "  Is  it  true  that  there  is  a  clianin  de  fer  at 
Oleron?" 


314  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

"Oh,  certainly,"  he  replied,  and  that  there 
would  be  a  train  that  evening  for  Pau. 

It  was  not  worth  while  lying  awake  about,  es- 
pecially as  we  were  so  tired ;  but  we  wondered 
then,  and  have  often  wondered  since,  what  was 
the  meaning  of  that  French  youth.  There  is  no 
railroad  from  Oloron  anywhere,  nor  was  there 
any  means  of  leaving  it  that  night. 

However,  there  was  an  excellent  hotel,  of  the 
kind  that  ceases  to  be  when  railways  begin ;  a 
courtyard  which  was  the  home  of  diligences  ;  in 
the  house  friendly  people  and  neat  maids,  who 
would  talk  either  Spanish  or  French. 

There  will  be  a  railroad  some  day  from  Pau  to 
Oloron,  a  part  of  the  route  which  will  make 
communication  between  Paris  and  Madrid  more 
direct  than  at  present.  The  road  on  which  we 
came,  pushed  further  at  each  end,  will  leave 
only  a  short  distance  to  be  crossed  by  diligence. 
To  this  Oloron  looks  forward  for  its  future  great- 
ness ;  at  present  it  is  a  prosperous  town  of  eight 
thousand  inhabitants,  whose  chief  industry  is 
making  the  woollen  sashes  and  caps  everybody 
wears  in  that  part  of  the  world. 

Oloron  has  the  reputation  of  stanch  Catholi- 
cism. When  Jeanne  d'Albret  sent  them  a  Prot- 
estant minister,  the  people  rose  with  such  fury 
that  he  and  his  companions  "  had  enough  to  do 
to  save  themselves,"  says  the  chronicle. 


JACA.  315 

The  next  morning,  having  assured  ourselves, 
in  all  the  languages  we  could  command,  that 
"  the  boy  lied,"  and  that  there  was  no  railroad, 
we  found  ourselves  in  our  own  open  carriage, 
bag  and  baggage  behind,  rolling  along  a  broad 
smooth  road  to  Pau. 

It  was  a  drive  of  five  hours,  through  pretty- 
suburban  country,  the  road  lined  with  villas  and 
chateaux,  nearer  and  nearer  together  as  the 
great  watering-place  is  approached.  The  Pyre- 
nees were  receding  from  us ;  our  favorite  Pic  du 
Midi  d'Ossau,  which  had  closed  the  vista  behind 
us  all  the  day  before,  showed  himself  less  and 
less  often ;  for  Pau  is  miles  away  from  the 
mountain  chain,  its  claim  to  which  is  only 
through  the  distant  view  of  it,  very  beautiful,  to 
be  seen  from  its  broad  terraces  overhanging  the 
river. 

Let  no  one,  therefore,  visit  Pau  with  the  idea 
of  penetrating  the  heart  of  the  Pyrenees ;  for 
that  he  must  go  further  on,  to  Pierrefitte  or 
Luchon,  where  railways  leave  him ;  and  to  the 
wonderful  amphitheatre  of  Gavarnie,  with  its 
lofty  waterfall ;  or  pause  content  at  pretty  little 
Luz,  nestled  down  in  its  little  three-cornered 
valley,  bristling  with  poplars. 

Pau  is  as  far  from  the  Pyrenees  as  Berne  is 
from  the  range  of  the  Jungfrau  ;  but  the  view  is 
as  wide  as  the  celebrated  one  from  the  terrace 


316  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

at  Berne,  and  in  some  respects  it  is  similar. 
Across  the  wide  valley  the  blue  shapes  of  the 
mountains  stretch  like  a  line  of  smoke ;  the  lower 
hills  are  covered  with  green,  and  the  river  Gave 
runs  sparkling  between  them.  It  is  the  climate 
of  Pau  which  attracts  people.  In  winter  it  is 
crowded  with  invalids  and  strangers.  When  we 
were  there  it  was  la  saison  morte ;  the  streets 
looked  like  Saratoga  in  October  and  Newport  in 
March.  All  the  villas  were  a  loner,  with  closed 
blinds  and  neglected  gravel-walks ;  there  were 
plenty  of  rooms  to  be  had  at  the  hotels.  The 
view,  however,  was  there ;  and  the  gay  winter 
world  must  miss  something  of  the  midsummer 
beauty  which  lay  over  the  shining  valley  as  we 
saw  it. 

The  chateau  of  Henry  IV.  was  also  to  be 
seen,  to  the  deep  interest  of  the  young  histo- 
rian of  our  party,  who  viewed  with  emotion 
the  tortoise-shell  cradle  in  which  her  favorite 
monarch  was  rocked.  It  is  the  whole  upper 
shell  of  a  huge  turtle.  The  castle  is  full  of 
really  interesting  relics ;  there  are  the  Gobelin 
tapestries  of  scenes  in  the  life  of  Henry,  as  fresh 
in  color  as  oil-paintings  of  to-day;  the  view 
from  the  windows  which  overhang  the  river  is 
the  same  as  that  from  the  terrace  of  the  pano- 
rama of  the  Pyrenees. 

All  these  things  we  saw,  but  with  somewhat 


J  AC  A.  317 

listless  eyes,  for  we  had  not  yet  shaken  off  the 
impression  of  Spanish  scenes.  Henry  IV.  was 
not  to  us  the  hero  who  filled  our  imaginations, 
still  employed  with  Boabdil  and  the  ultimo  sos- 
piro  del  Moro.  Our  ultimo  sospiro,  up  at  Can- 
franc,  where  we  crossed  the  frontier,  was  too 
recent  for  us  to  interest  ourselves  deeply  in  the 
cradle  of  the  Bourbon  kings. 

And  so,  dear  reader,  it .  is  time  for  us  to  bid 
each  other  good-by,  with  all  thanks  on  my  part 
for  the  loyalty  with  which  you  have  held  to  us 
in  good  report  and  in  evil.  What  banditti  we 
have  escaped  we  shall  probably  never  know. 
Whether  we  might  have  gone  by  better  routes, 
who  can  tell  till  he  has  tried  them?  Possibly, 
indeed,  our  whole  theory  of  travel  is  wrong. 
Quicn  sabe?  as  we  will  say  for  the  last  time. 
This  is  certain,  it  is  not  wholly  wrong.  However 
it  may  be  with  the  reader,  I  know  four  people 
who  do  not  think  the  journey  could  be  improved 
upon.  They  think  that  they  never  expended 
seven  weeks  of  time,  and  the  proportion  of 
money  belonging  to  it,  to  better  purpose. 

Before  we  fairly  shake  hands  and  say  the  last 
word,  let  us  see  if  we  can  answer  some  of  the 
questions  with  which  we  began.  First,  as  to  that 
doubtful  matter  of  language.  Believe  me,  we 
enjoyed  more,  learned  more,  and  saw  more,  be- 
cause we  had  no  interpreter.    At  the  end  of  two 


318  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

or  three  weeks  we  found  we  were  listening  to 
preachers,  to  other  public  speakers,  with  a  rea- 
sonable understanding  of  what  they  were  aiming 
at,  and,  by  the  time  our  journey  was  over,  I 
found  I  could  join  quite  bravely  in  the  conversa- 
tion of  a  table  dJwte.  This  we  owe  to  Mr.  Pren- 
dergast  and  his  "  Mastery  system."  I  do  not 
say,  after  six  months,  that  one  does  not  forget 
the  language  as  readily  as  he  learned  it  ;  but  I 
think  I  should  very  soon  come  to  my  bearings 
again  if  I  were  in  the  West  Indies  or  in  Spain. 

Second,  as  to  that  matter  of  climate.  Must 
a  person  give  up  Spain  because  he  cannot  go 
there  in  winter? 

This  is  certain,  that  the  Spaniards  themselves 
live  there  all  the  year  round.  They  would  be 
very  much  surprised  to  be  told  that  their  coun- 
try was  uninhabitable  in  June,  July,  or  August. 
It  is  also  certain  that  the  railway  trains  run  at 
all  parts  of  the  year.  The  people  who  carry  on 
that  business  would  be  surprised  if  you  told 
them  that  travel  was  impossible. 

As  the  reader  has  seen,  we  did  our  best  to  fall 
in  with  the  habits  of  the  country.  Among  those 
habits,  foremost,  I  might  say,  is  the  determina- 
tion not  to  go  abroad  in  summer  in  the  four  hot 
hours,  between  eleven  and  three.  If  possible,  a 
Spaniard  would  extend  those  hours.  In  travel- 
ling, it  is  not  always  possible  to  keep  up  this 


J  AC  A.  319 

determination.  And  in  Spain,  as  in  all  other 
countries,  a  railway  carriage,  between  two  and 
four  in  the  afternoon,  is  about  the  hottest  place 
you  can  find,  unless  you  be  in  the  business  of 
rolling  iron. 

But  it  will  generally  be  in  your  power  to  avoid 
travelling  in  the  siesta  hours.  For  instance,  we 
crossed  from  Granada  to  Jaen  before  one,  and 
at  four,  or  thereabouts,  resumed  our  journey. 
So  we  crossed  from  Zaragoza  to  Huesca  before 
ten,  and  at  six  resumed  our  journey.  The  peo- 
ple of  the  country  do  not  like  to  travel  in  the 
heat  more  than  this  estimable  reader  does,  and 
they  arrange  for  their  convenience  in  preparing 
their  schedules  quite  as  much  as  they  do  for  his. 
As  I  said  in  an  early  chapter,  there  is  apt  to  be 
only  more  night  travel  than  one  likes  offered 
to  him.  And  one  does  not  suffer  from  heat  in 
travelling  at  night. 

The  reader,  of  course,  will  observe  that  the 
high  sierras  of  the  south  and  the  Pyrenees  on 
the  north  offer  the  same  summer  advantages  to 
tourists,  or  people  seeking  rest,  which  mountain 
ranges  always  offer. 

About  summer  travelling,  one  general  remark 
is  to  be  made  to  Americans.  Our  notions  about 
it  are  not  the  same  as  those  of  the  English  trav- 
ellers who  make  most  of  the  European  guide- 
books.     President    Felton    said    to    me,    some 


320  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

twenty  years  ago,  that  he  had  always  found  sum- 
mer the  best  time  to  travel,  even  in  the  south  of 
Europe.  He  spoke  particularly  of  Greece,  where 
he  was  quite  at  home.  Of  course  you  must  be 
careful,  you  must  choose  your  time.  But  you 
have  the  great  advantage  of  the  long  days.  And 
when  your  business  as  well  as  your  pleasure  is 
to  see  things,  it  is  certainly  well  to  have  daylight 
in  which  you  can  see,  and  to  have  as  much  of  it 
as  is  possible.  My  verdict,  after  seven  weeks  of 
May  and  June,  would  be  the  same. 

So,  I  think,  would  be  that  of  most  Americans, 
not  unused  to  hot  summers  at  home.  We  should 
not  hesitate  to  take  June,  or  even  July  or  Au- 
gust, for  a  journey  through  the  mountain  parts 
of  Virginia,  or  to  go  to  the  caves  of  Kentucky. 
We  should  expect  to  be  careful  at  mid-day.  But 
we  should  know  that  long  and  delightful  morn- 
ings and  afternoons  would  be  our  compensation. 

And  now  comes  the  question  which  every- 
body puts  to  me,  the  political  question :  "  Will 
they  pull  through?"  I  think  we  are  all  in- 
terested in  the  reply  to  this.  We  hate  the 
Spaniard,  in  a  certain  sense,  as  Drake  and 
Hawkins  and  Amyas  Leigh  hated  him.  But 
this  only  means  that  we  hate  Charles  V.  and 
Philip  II.,  —  that  we  hate  lying  and  treachery, 
the  Inquisition  and  its  iniquities.  We  love  Co- 
lumbus.    We   are   personally   grateful   to   him, 


JACA.  321 

every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  America,  because 
we  were  born  where  we  were  born,  which  we 
owe  to  him.  And,  after  travel  in  Spain,  at  best 
one  comes  to  our  Isabella  the  Good.  Were 
we  beginning  to  take  an  interest  in  Mexico, 
where  dear  old  Judge  Sewall  thought  the  ter- 
restrial paradise  was,  we  cannot  but  see  how 
much  we  owe  to  Spain.  We  see  how  every 
traveller  is  fascinated  with  the  country.  And  so 
every  one  asks  me,  "Will  they  pull  through?" 

Well,  I  am  no  prophet.  Sometimes  I  wish 
I  were,  and  then  again  I  am  glad  I  am  not. 
I  observe  that  people  never  believe  true  prophets 
in  their  time ;  they  generally  stone  them.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  is  the  highest  authority  for 
turning  a  cold  shoulder  on  false  ones.  Into  the 
business  of  prediction  I  go  not,  though  it  is  often 
my  pleasure  to  do  my  best  in  other  lines  of 
prophecy.  This  is  certain,  that  you  cannot  help 
hoping  much  from  a  people  so  industrious  as 
the  Spaniards,  and  so  temperate.  The  master 
evil  of  drinking,  which  is  the  worst  evil  England 
has  to  meet,  is  not  their  evil  in  Spain.  Charles 
V.  laughed  at  them  because  they  were  drinking 
all  the  time.  But  they  had  the  wit  to  drink 
sugared  water. 

On  the  other  hand,  you  cannot  hope  much 
from  a  people  who  are  well  sick  of  their  religion. 
And  I  am  afraid  the  Spaniards  are.     Yet  Buckle 


322  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

and  the  rest  say  they  are  a  superstitious  people. 
If  I  judged  from  what  I  saw  in  our  dear  little 
Jaca,  I  should  say  that  there  was  implicit  and 
reverent  faith ;  and  I  could  sympathize  with 
the  Ultramontanists,  who  beg  me  to  let  it  alone. 
But  I  must  not  judge  from  Jaca.  I  must  judge 
from  Madrid  and  Seville  and  Granada.  And 
I  am  afraid  that  they  are  sadly  in  need  of  some 
sort  of  Wesley  or  Moody  or  George  Fox  to  give 
them  a  sense  of  the  real  intimacy  of  God  with 
man.  In  my  notion,  some  layman  will  do  this 
business  for  them  better  than  can  any  man  who 
has  passed  through  the  grinding  oppression  of 
the  Catholic  priesthood,  and  is  so  far  disabled 
from  speaking,  man-fashion,  to  his  fellow-men. 

I  have  spoken  rather  lightly  of  their  politics. 
But  here,  as  I  owned,  I  have  little  more  than 
that  superficial  knowledge,  very  nearly  worth- 
less, which  any  man  has  who  reads  newspapers 
alone.  I  had  no  good  chance  to  sit  down  and 
talk  with  any  of  their  own  men  of  affairs  about 
the  real  state  of  the  country.  The  foreign  mer- 
chants, whom  I  did  see  a  good  deal,  are,  I  think, 
in  any  country,  the  last  men  to  give  you  a  true 
idea  of  its  affairs. 

They  are  still  in  the  era  of  talk.  It  is  indeed 
a  pity,  to  repeat  a  fine  phrase,  that  "  their  lan- 
guage lends  itself  to  oratory."  The  trouble  with 
the  Irish  people   is   that   their   language   lends 


J  AC  A.  323 

itself  to  oratory,  and  their  leaders  cannot  lead 
them  to  any  purpose,  because  they  give  up  to 
blatherskite  what  was  meant  for  mankind.  Be- 
hind all  this  talk  in  Spain  there  is  certainly 
much  work  done.  The  post-office  is  bad.  Per- 
haps all  travellers  say  that  of  all  post-offices. 
But-of  other  administration,  the  figures  I  have 
already  cited  tell  a  not  unfavorable  story.  And, 
as  I  am  constantly  saying,  industry  and  temper- 
ance in  the  rank  and  file  must  tell. 

Do  not  let  us  be  deceived  by  mere  Madrid 
politics.  That  would  be  the  same  mistake  which 
all  Englishmen  make  about  America.  They 
suppose  Washington  is  an  American  London. 
They  suppose  that  we  are  as  much  excited  about 
a  change  in  the  cabinet  as  they  would  be  if  Mr. 
Gladstone's  cabinet  changed.  Now,  we  are  not. 
Even  the  "  twopenny  shrieker,"  anxious  to  sell 
to-day's  paper,  cannot  pretend  to  that  interest. 
We  are  interested  in  home  affairs.  Just  so  with 
Spain.  Remember,  that  is  a  federate  kingdom 
still.  All  the  centralization  of  four  bad  centu- 
ries has  not  broken  up  the  love  of  home  and 
home  affairs.  There  is  no  such  procession  of 
magnates  with  their  families  to  any  "  season  "  at 
the  capital,  as  you  see  in  England.  There  is 
no  pretence  that  Madrid  is  Spain,  as  men  say 
that  Paris  is  France.  I  am  apt  to  think  that 
the  creation  of  Madrid  was  a  mistake  from  the 


324  SEVEN  SPANISH  CITIES. 

beginning.  But  whether  that  be  so  or  not,  the 
existence  of  Madrid  does  not  destroy  vigorous 
life  in  the  provinces;  and,  by  a  very  sensible 
system,  much  of  their  local  administration  is  re- 
ferred to  local  authorities. 

A  man  might  fancy  at  Madrid  that  all  Spain 
was  given  up  to  office-hunting.  So  a  man  might 
say  of  America  at  Washington.  But  America  is 
not  given  up  to  office-hunting,  and  I  hope  Spain 
will  not  prove  to  be. 

I  met  men  of  energy  and  sense  who  were  hard 
at  work  on  the  problems  of  education.  A  long 
and  hard  future  is  before  them.  But  I  would 
ask  for  no  better  future  than  those  Spanish 
boys.  Give  them,  what  the  church  has  not 
given  them,  teachers  who  want  to  have  them 
think,  who  do  not  mean  to  do  their  thinking 
for  them,  and  they  will  have  a  better  chance 
than  their  fathers.  And  so  will  Spain  have  a 
better  chance  than  she  has  had.  You  and  I, 
dear  reader,  do  not  think  the  worse  of  her 
people  because  they  call  each  other  cabal- 
lero,  and  because  they  can  do  a  favor  without 
expecting  a  fee.  And  certainly  there  is  hope 
for  a  people  of  whose  country  even  the  grumb- 
ling English  guide-books  confess  that  a  woman 
may  travel  alone  in  any  part  of  Spain,  and  shall 
not  anywhere  be  in  any  danger  of  insult. 


INDEX. 


Abdurrhaman,  50. 

Abyla,  86. 

Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  236. 

Academy  of  History,  161. 

Administration,  182. 

Admiral  Fox,  117. 

Africa,  84. 

Agricultural  Society,  187. 

Aix,  20. 

Alcala"  de  Hen&es,  240. 

Alcantara,  Doctor  of,  241. 

Alcazars,  40,  42,  53,  56,  154. 

Algeciras,  84. 

Albania,  92,  233. 

Alhambra,  61,  93,  114. 

Almuerzo,  S8. 

Alonzo  Cano,  67,  222. 

Amadis  of  Gaul,  89. 

Americanists,  Congress  of,  163. 

Amicis's  Italy,  48,  211. 

Arabian  Nights,  53. 

Aragon,  256. 

Aranjuez,  209. 

Archbishop  Turpin,  17. 

Armory  of  Madrid,  218. 

Army  expenses,  173. 

Arroz  a  la  Valenciana,  114. 

Art  School  in  Seville,  67. 

Atrium,  150,  210. 

Bad  Queen,  the,  182. 
Baetis,  the,  45. 
Baeza,  148. 
Barcelona,  268. 


Basques,  28. 

Bayonne,  20. 

Bedous,  312. 

Bell,  the  tale  of  the,  27S. 

Bernardo  del  Carpio,  27. 

Bishop  of  Spain,  192. 

Bishop  Sisibert,  215. 

Bishop  Turpin,  17. 

Boabdil,  21S. 

Bordeaux,  14. 

Boston  Public  Library,  160. 

Buckingham  Smith,  162. 

Buen  Retiro,  220. 

Burdigala,  16. 

Burgos,  28. 

Cabrera,  Don  Jos6,  192. 
Cadiz,  80. 
Calatayud,  232. 
Calcografia,  238. 
Calderon,  Madame,  184. 
California  discovered,  6. 
Canfranc,  301. 
Canon  Alonzo,  214. 
Caradoc,  23. 

Cardinal  Xinienes,  215,240. 
Carlist  War,  266. 
Carlos,  Don,  183. 
Castelar,  1S0. 
Cathedrals,  66. 
Cavour,  170. 
Charles  V.,  52,  165. 
Chariot,  18. 
Cid's  sword,  219. 


326 


INDEX. 


Civil  service,  159. 

Clarimunda,  18. 

Coena,  88. 

Columbian  Library,  65. 

Columbus,  71. 

Comida,  88. 

Complutensian  Polyglot,  241. 

Congress  of  Americanists,  163. 

Contreras,  Senor,  96. 

Cordova,  40. 

Cortes,  174. 

Cuesta,  208. 

D'Aspe,  311. 
Dax,  20. 
Dejeuner,  88. 
Democratic-Dynastic,  180. 
Diligence,  134. 
Diodorus  Siculus,  305. 
Documentos  Ineditos,  162. 
Don  Gayferos,  238. 
Don  Quixote,  43. 
Don  Ramiro,  261. 
Durandarte,  27. 
Dutch  pictures,  222. 

El  Dia,  1  So. 
El  Pilar,  258. 
El  Zagal,  90. 
Esplandian,  89. 
Exports,  176. 

Fans,  245. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  132. 

First  Parliament,  293. 

Flint-locks,  219. 

Folk-lore  societies,  65. 

Fonda,  41. 

Fontarabia,  21. 

Fortuny,  107. 

Fox,  Admiral,  on  Columbus,  117. 

Fra  Agapida,  117. 

Franklin,  14. 

Fueros,  293. 


Galleries  of  Madrid,  24. 
Garcia  Fernandez,  76. 
Garibaldi's  death,  180. 
Gaspacho,  114. 
Gay's  Pictorial  History,  6. 
Gens  d'armes,  137. 
Gibraltar,  84. 
Gothic  blood,  177. 
Gothic  church,  193. 
Goths,  11. 
Goya,  226. 
Granada,  72. 
Gregorio  Mur,  2S5. 
Grice,  Joseph,  220. 
Guadalajara,  243. 
Guadalquivir,  45,  71. 

Henry  IV.,  of  France,  317. 
Herrera,  Senor,  176. 
Horticultural  Gardens,  187. 
Hotels,  62. 
Huelva,  74. 
Huesca,  268. 
Huon  of  Bordeaux,  17. 
Hydrographical  Bureau,  160. 

Impluvium,  150. 

Inglis,  Miss  F.,  185. 

Inquisition,  65. 

Irrigation,  47. 

Irving,  Washington,  94,  114. 

Irving's,  Washington,  Granada,  83, 

218. 
Isabella  II.,  146,  171. 
Isabella  Salon,  226. 

Jaca,  266,  278. 
Jaen,  134, 147,  179. 
Joshua,  Book  of,  10. 
Jubarra,  220. 

King  Alfonso,  182. 
King  Ramiro,  219,  294. 


INDEX. 


327 


La  Mancha,  43. 

Landfall  of  Columbus,  117. 

Landscape  of  France,  15. 

Lathrop  and  Reinhart,  $},  211. 

Laurent's  photographs,  23S. 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  222. 

Leparrto,  Battle  of,  219. 

Liberalism,  183. 

Libraries,  160. 

Lockhart's  ballad,  32. 

Loja,  91. 

Madrazos,  the  Senores,  222,  227. 
Madrid,  36. 
Magerit,  229. 
Malaga,  80. 
Manzanarcs,  249. 
Maria  de  Rabida,  75. 
Marshal  Serrano,  179. 
Martial,  210. 

Martines,  Senor  Don  Diego,  18S. 
Mastery  system,  9. 
Mayoral,  135. 
Medinacoeli,  233. 
Melisendra,  Princess,  264,  279. 
Melons,  177. 
Moschena,  75. 
Mosque  of  Cordova,  57. 
Munoz's  Collections,  162. 
Murillo,  62,  222,  224. 
Murray's  guide-books,  34. 
Museums,  218. 

Napoleon  I.,  160,  219. 
National  Library,  161. 
Naval  expenses,  173. 
Navarrette,  115. 
Newspapers,  166. 

Oleron,  313. 
Orchata,  230. 
Orleans,  14. 

O'Shea's  guide-book,  34. 
Osoria,  Santa,  284. 


Pacific  Ocean,  6. 
Paco,  Perro,  198. 
Palos,  71. 

Panticosa  baths,  266,  283. 
Pau,  315. 
Perro  Paco,  198. 
Pertinax,  210. 
Philip  1 1.,  2ii. 
Philip  IV.,  165. 
Philippine  Islands,  173. 
Pinzons,  72,  76. 
Pitcheries,  19. 
Politics,  178. 
Polyglot,  241. 
Post-houses,  137. 
Postilion,  13S. 
Prado,  229. 
Prandium,  87. 
Prendergast's  system,  9. 
Prescott,  W.  H.,  1. 
Protestant  Church,  118,  131. 
Public  works,  173. 
Pyrene,  307. 
Pyrenees,  305. 

Queen  Isabella,  68,  182. 

Rabida,  75. 
Raphael,  222. 
Regnault,  Henri,  107. 
Reinhart's  drawings,  33. 
Republic,  180. 
Ricci  (the  excellent),  158. 
Roman  antiquities,  15. 
Roman  Catholic  Church,  68. 
Roman  mins,  16. 
Roncesvalles,  23. 
Roswag's  guide-book,  223. 
Royal  Library,  160. 
Rubens,  222. 
Ruskin,  225. 

Sachetti,  220. 

Saint  Anthony's  vision,  66. 


328 


INDEX. 


Saint  Christopher,  212. 
Saint  Ildefonso,  215. 
Saint  John's  Day,  267. 
San  Domingo,  57. 
Serrano,  Marshal,  179. 
Sertorius,  269. 
Seville,  56,  221. 
Sierra  Rallo,  134,  144. 
Siesta,  63. 
Siete  Suelos,  98. 
Siguenza,  231. 
Somport,  303. 
Spanish  Protestants,  131. 
Spanish  Republic,  180. 
Stilts,  21. 
Strabo,  306. 

Talavera  de  la  Reina,  207. 
Temperance,  232. 
Teutonic  races,  12. 
Tiles  in  Seville,  221. 
Tinto  River,  y^. 
Toledo,  206. 


Triclinium,  150. 
Trifolium  incarnatum,  15. 
Turpin,  Archbishop,  17. 

Universitad  Sertorio,  268. 
Urdos,  308. 

Val  de  Penas,  305. 
Valladolid,  159. 
Valle,  Marques  del,  164. 
Vandyke,  222.        w 
Vega,  92,  95,  137. 
Velasquez,  223,  239. 
Villa  Nueva,  221. 

Wild-flowers,  301. 
Worship,  118. 

Xeres,  80. 

Ximenes,  Cardinal,  194. 

Zagal,  el,  135. 
Zaragoza,  247,  267. 


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